


Funny You're the Broken One

by CaramelDarling



Category: Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children - Ransom Riggs
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anxiety, College AU, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-27
Updated: 2017-04-14
Packaged: 2018-09-27 06:13:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 21,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9979907
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaramelDarling/pseuds/CaramelDarling
Summary: Winter break has started but Jacob has no intention of heading home. Fearing his parents' reaction to his worsening anxiety and avoiding Emma after their breakup, he has every intention of keeping to himself, figuring out what he wants to do with his life, and definitely NOT getting into another serious relationship. Then he runs into an old friend.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Rating/tags might change as I continue with the story.

Jacob’s third year of college isn’t going as great as he wanted it to. He doesn’t say “expected it to” because, after freshman year, he’s stopped expecting to do well and has started  _hoping_ ,  _working_ to do well. It only took one professor describing all the things his writing lacked and, from the same professor, a D in his Essay Writing class to shake all his confidence. He’s done fine since then, earning mostly A’s and a few B’s, but this term, _this fucking term_ , is kicking his ass. It’s his physics class. The textbook is horrifically dense, his notes never make any sense when he looks through them after class, and the professor rambles.

Possibly, these are just excuses. Jacob thinks maybe, probably, he just hates the subject. He’s not sure he even wants to major in biology anymore.

The problem is, he’s can’t just change majors this far into his college career. He’s a junior and, yes, it’s only his first term as a junior, but he’s a junior nonetheless.

Jacob sighs as he stares at the last multiple choice question on his physics test. After this, he’ll be done with finals and he’ll finally be able to relax. Right now, though, he’s stuck. His chest feels sharp. His hands are shaking when he lifts his pencil. He’s bombed this test, he knows it. He can already see the _F_ on his transcript. The girl next to him stands to turn in her test and he nearly flinches. Time is almost up.

_Breathe_ , he tells himself, _Just get through this_.

He fills in a random letter. It’s the best he can do.

Afterwards, he walks to his dorm, bundled up in a thick jacket and a scarf. He forgot his gloves and the air bites at his skin. When he finally reaches his dorm room, he has to push at the door until whatever is blocking his way slides aside.

It’s his roommate. He’s passed out in front of the door. There’s a half-empty bottle of beer in his hand, but the loud snoring tells Jacob he’s just sleeping.

Jacob sighs deeply and bends down to wake him up. “Alan,” he says. “Alan, get up.”

Alan curls into himself, the bottle spilling onto the carpet. Jacob feels a flash of anger. He wants to sleep too, not spend however long this is going to take helping Alan into his bed.

“Alaaan,” he says and shakes Alan’s arm roughly.

Alan startles awake, gasping. “My victory beer!” he exclaims, bringing the bottle to his chest and spilling beer on his shirt. “Oh nooooo…”

“Get up, you drunkard. Sleep on your bed.”

“I’m not even _drunk_ ,” Alan whines. “I passed out before I could drink it. I haven’t slept for days, man, fuck finals.” He pauses and then looks at Jacob with wide eyes. “Let’s go drinking.”

Jacob makes a face.

“Let’s celebrate the end of term!” Alan jumps to his feet and starts undressing, pulling off his shirt. “First, a shower. Then we can go to this bar my ex’s band plays at.”

“Your ex?” Jacob says.

“Mhm,” he says as he disappears into the bathroom. “He’s…” The rest of his words are lost behind the bathroom door. Jacob hears the shower turn on.

He wonders how long ago it was that this guy and Alan broke up. Jacob doesn’t think he would be so enthusiastic about going to see Emma, even though they ended things on supposedly good terms. It’s already been months. Should he be over it by now? Emma’s the only person he’s ever seriously dated and for a long time at that. He has no idea if this infinite heartache is normal or if Emma has left him permanently depressed.

_Whatever_ , he thinks and collapses onto his bed, peeling off his scarf and coat. He needs a nap. He feels like he hasn’t slept in days, what with all the studying and panicking over finals he’s been doing.

As he starts to drift into sleep, his mind provides him with a very unhelpful image of Emma’s golden hair, her bright eyes, her smile as she leans in for a kiss. He misses her. He misses all the peculiar children. Maybe going to college out of state was a mistake. Maybe going to college at all was a mistake.

Biology. Why did he even choose biology? He wants to learn how to do something world-changing, not how to keep his anxiety under control enough to make it through a test without a panic attack. Or he wishes that wasn’t something he _had_ to learn. His physics class is at fault for sixty percent of his stress.

And then there’s that: his anxiety. That thing his parents don’t know about because the _last_ time they thought he was sick, things did not go well.

He’s falling into fitful sleep when Alan opens the bathroom door, whistling. Once again, Jacob’s too awake. He shoots a glare in Alan’s direction.

Jacob groans and turns in bed, pressing his face against the cool, white wall.

“Hey, Jacob,” Alan says. “We’ve got places to be. Don’t fall asleep.”

“It’s too early to go drinking,” Jacob says.

“You take forever to get ready.”

“I’m gonna pretend you didn’t say that.”

“Still true,” Alan mock-whispers.

Jacob sighs. He’s too awake to sleep now anyway. He forces himself out of bed, which Alan gives a cheer in response to, and goes into the bathroom.

 

***

He’s never been to the bar Alan takes him to before, though that’s not surprising. He hasn’t been to many bars in general. The band is already playing, smooth indie rock, a sound Jacob immediately takes a liking to. Alan chooses a table in the middle of the room, as close to the stage as possible, and they settle across each other. There are quite a few people around, listening to the band and drinking. Though Jacob still feels a little awkward, blending into a crowd makes him a little calmer.

Alan watches the stage for a long second, then rolls his eyes and smirks at Jacob. “He’s always looked hottest on stage. I hate it.”

Jacob looks to the stage to find whoever Alan is talking about. The lead singer is a pretty, red-headed girl wearing spiked gloves and ripped jeans. Behind her is a dark girl playing drums, banging her head to the music. At her left, there’s a blond guitarist, but Jacob can’t make out his face with his bangs so long. At her right is the bassist, a tall guy with green hair.

He reminds Jacob of Ricky and he stops searching for Alan’s ex, taking in the sight of this guy tapping along and strumming to the music.

One of Jacob’s more minor regrets is that he never got in contact with Ricky again after he came back home. More specifically, he regrets the way things ended between them and that Jacob didn’t realize he’d had a small, teeny crush on him until after high school was over. Not that he thinks anything would have happened, even if Jacob had realized he’s bisexual earlier. He would have been more self-aware, if anything, acknowledging that the reason he often caught himself staring at Ricky was because he was attracted to him and that feeling he mistook for jealousy was really a small, fearful response to having an unreciprocated crush.

He would never have pursued it.

A waiter comes by asking for their orders. Both Jacob and Alan order beer and a burger. After he leaves, Jacob asks, “How long ago did you break up?”

“Hm?” Alan leans back in his chair, running a hand through his blond hair. He’s wearing fingerless gloves and a brown leather jacket. He doesn’t look like the kind of guy who would major in psychology, let alone get straight A’s. He looks more like he should be on stage with the band. “Like a year and a half ago. He moved here right after he finished high school. I knew him through Cassie, the lead singer. He had nowhere to stay, so I told him he could stay with me. Didn’t even ask my roommate at the time if he was cool with it. Anyway, we started going out not long after he found an apartment, but he was kind of distant, always has been, really, even now.”

Jacob hums in response. He knows what that feels like—Emma got distant right before they broke up too.

Alan leans in to whisper, “He didn’t like talking about his past, but once I wrenched a confession out of him. He told me he’d been hopelessly in love with a friend of his in high school. I think he still was when we were going out.”

“That must’ve really sucked,” Jacob says, his chest aching with the thought of something similar happening with Emma. Emma wasn’t in love with someone else, as far as he knows, but the very possibility she could have been pining after someone else as they laid in bed together makes him hurt like fresh heartbreak.

“We were always better friends anyway,” Alan sighs.

The song comes to an end and the guy brushes his green bangs out of his face, sweating from the heat of the spotlight. Jacob blinks and stares. Recognizes his face.

The lead singer thanks the audience for listening as people clap around them. She says something about a break and the band climbs off the stage.

“Here he comes,” Alan says and lifts his arm to call attention to himself. “Ricky! Over here!”

Jacob’s chest tightens with nerves. He watches Ricky approach in a worn, faded t-shirt, piercings in his ears, a water bottle in hand. He doesn’t look like a teenager anymore, though of course he doesn’t—both he and Jacob are twenty-one—but still, it’s surprising. His teenage rebellion look has matured into something a slight more dangerous, a degree cooler.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” Ricky says to Alan fondly. His eyes go to Jacob and Jacob braces to be recognized. Ricky doesn’t say anything, but he’s frozen in place, eyes wide, mouth snapping closed.

“I’ve come to introduce you to my good friend here,” Alan says. “His name is Jacob. We’ve come to celebrate the merciful end of finals!”

“H—Hi,” Jacob says carefully. He hasn’t talked to Ricky in about three years and the last time they spoke, they’d had some dumb fight. What had Jacob said about his mom? What had Ricky said about Jacob needing a shrink? It’s all so far away now.

Ricky blinks, reanimating like a spell has been broken. He punches Jacob’s arm. “Well, if it isn’t Special Ed. Still kicking, I see.”

“Alive and well, I guess,” Jacob responds, surprised. Is it going to be this easy to catch up?

Alan smacks the table. “Hold the fucking phone. You two know each other?”

Ricky sits down in the empty chair between them, shrugging. He plays with an earring, picking up the drinks menu that sits in the middle of the table. “We were pals in high school until this guy disappeared off the face of the planet.”

“Disappeared?” Alan says.

“Literally went missing,” Ricky says.

“Hey! _My_ life story to tell, thanks.” Jacob doesn’t like trying to explain why he went missing.

“Right,” Ricky says.

Alan looks at Jacob with narrowed eyes. Jacob makes a face back as the waiter returns with their drinks.

“Your meals will be out in a moment,” the waiter says.

Ricky orders something too as Alan raises both eyebrows at Jacob as if trying to communicate telepathically with him. _What_ , Jacob mouths.

“Ricky!” The red headed girl stands from where she’s sitting with the other band members. “Don’t you dare get drunk! We still have another set to play!”

“Chill, Cassie,” Ricky calls back. “One drink won’t do shit.” He shakes his head, ducking closer to mutter to Jacob and Alan. “She thinks she’s my fucking babysitter.”

“Hi, Cassie!” Alan waves.

“Watch him, Alan!”

“I don’t need to be watched,” Ricky complains. “Anyway, you’re going to school here, Jacob? Never thought I’d run into you in Oregon.”

“Yeah. Well, I’m surprised you’re here too. Oregon has got to be the furthest state from Florida possible.” Jacob shifts in his chair. This is easy. There’s surprisingly a lot Jacob wants to talk to him about. “You’re in a band? I don’t think I ever even saw you _look_ at an instrument back home.”

“I picked it up while you were gone,” Ricky says. “Bass is the easiest to learn.”

“So he says, but I was shit when I tried to learn,” Alan grumbles.

“You’ve just got zero musical talent,” Ricky laughs.

It’s clear they’re close. Closer, possibly, than Jacob and Ricky were back in high school. Jacob gulps down his drink.

“Woah there, Jakey. I’m not carrying you back so chill, dude,” Alan warns.

Jacob glares at him. “Excuse me? Who was it that passed out on the floor earlier today? Who was it that spilled beer on the carpet? _Who was it that had to wake you up_?”

Alan puts both hands up in defense and then grabs his drink. He leans back as he sips from the bottle. “Wowww,” he says like Jacob’s being too dramatic for him to handle.

“You didn’t even clean it up.”

Ricky smiles at them, tipping his chair back on its two back legs like a reckless child. “This is super weird,” he says. “That you get along so well.”

“It’s weirder that you know each other,” Alan responds. “Besides, Jacob loves me.”

Ricky’s smile falters. It’s barely noticeable, but Jacob’s watching him maybe a little too closely. These two dated, he reminds himself and then pauses. That means Ricky likes guys. That means something might actually have happened between them if Jacob chose to pursue his crush on him back in high school. He shakes the idea away. That’s all in the past.

Besides. Ricky’s watching Alan talk, not looking at Jacob.

Before long, after Ricky’s had less than half his beer, Cassie comes over to grab him by the collar and pulls him back on stage. Jacob doesn’t want to leave—he’s afraid he’ll never see him again. Thankfully, Alan’s too pumped to even think about going home yet and he drinks freely and recklessly.

When Ricky’s band starts playing a few covers, Alan’s drunk enough to try to loudly sing along. “This is my favorite song!” he shouts for the third time at Jacob.

Jacob figures it’s time to cut him off, but when he tries to take away the beer, Alan gasps and clumsily lifts the drink to his mouth, swallowing. “Don’t you fucking dare, Jakey. I’m celebrating,” he warns.

Jacob sighs.

Around midnight, the band stops playing and starts cleaning up. Jacob’s managed to get Alan to stop drinking, but only because Alan has gotten so wasted he’s fallen asleep in his chair. Jacob watches him with his arms crossed, dreading the bus ride back to the dorms.

Ricky walks back to their table, wearing his black leather jacket, his guitar in its case. “Oh, god,” he says when he sees Alan. “You let him get wasted.”

Jacob sighs into his hands. “I know.”

Ricky pats Jacob on the back. It’s a friendly, familiar sort of thing to do and it makes Jacob lift his head and blink at him. Ricky pulls his hand back and rubs the back of his neck. “Want me to drive you back? I only had half a beer like two hours ago.”

“We’ve been here too long, Alaaan,” Jacob says, admitting that he is, actually, a little drunk himself. “Yeah, a drive back would be, you know, cool,” he says to Ricky.

Ricky grins, amused, before gesturing at Alan and grabbing one of his arms. Jacob stands to grab the other and together they lift Alan from his chair.

The walk to the parking lot is full of stumbling and cursing, mostly from Alan, who is now half awake. “No more partying?” he asks when Ricky opens the back seat of his car.

The car is a Crown Victoria, but it isn’t the one Ricky had back in Florida. It’s newer, nicer, and dark green. It matches Ricky’s hair. Jacob’s surprised it’s the same kind of car. Maybe it means Ricky hasn't changed all that much. Or at least his tastes are the same. This boy isn’t a complete stranger.

Ricky puts his guitar on one of the back seats and then helps Alan in, saying in a comforting voice, “You’re such a pain when you drink, so I’m taking you back to your dorm.”

Alan gasps and tries to stick his head out of the car. “Where’s my good pal, my bud? Jacob! Oh, no.” He’s slurring, but it’s surprisingly not bad enough to be incomprehensible. Jacob’s drank with him before, so this is something he’s learned, but he’s still mildly impressed by how smooth-spoken Alan is, even when drunk.

Jacob leans closer so Alan can see him. “Right here,” he says. “Didn’t lose me.”

Ricky watches as Alan touches Jacob’s face and whispers, “You’re my best friend, you know that? I love you.”

Jacob doesn’t look at Ricky. He’s afraid he might see jealousy, the remnants of old emotions that, like Jacob’s, should be gone by now but aren’t. He doesn’t want to know if Ricky still has feelings for Alan or vice versa.

Jacob leans into the car to buckle Alan in. “Go to sleep, you drunkard,” he says and then straightens. Ricky closes the car door and they look at each other, Jacob bracing himself, half expecting to see that jealousy.

The expression on Ricky’s face is hard to describe. It’s not jealousy, but it’s not anything. He looks impassive, if anything, maybe a little blank. Jacob catches himself staring and turns his head.

“Well, let’s go then,” Ricky says and opens the door to the driver’s seat.

Jacob walks around the car, trying not to be caught watching Ricky’s face for more expression, some sign as to what Ricky is thinking. The air is colder now than before, the sky darker. He gets into the passenger seat and buckles up. It’s not warmer inside. Alan has actually fallen asleep again, his soft snoring echoing in the background as Ricky turns on the car, the engine rumbling to life.

“So, it’s that building on campus, right? The one next to the science building?” Ricky asks.

“How do you know?” The alcohol in his system makes Jacob sound more amazed than he means to.

“I stayed there with Alan for a couple months when I first moved here. You’re his roommate now, right?” Ricky puts the car in drive, not moving it as he watches people from the bar pass by.

“Yeah, since last year. Alan told me his old roommate hated him because he broke too many rules,” Jacob says. “And my old roommate dropped out.”

Ricky hums in acknowledgment as he pulls out of the parking spot. He glances at Jacob, noticing he’s shivering, and turns up the heat. “Yeah, his old roommate was always complaining about me staying there. Said they’d get in huge trouble if someone found out, but I talked to the RA like fifty times and she didn’t care.”

Their RA is pretty laid back. Once, Jacob saw her telling the girls who live across from him and Alan that she was glad they were relaxing, but they had to air out the room because the smell of weed was going to get them caught. Then, she opened the windows for them and they all sat down to smoke together.

They’re both quiet as Ricky drives out of the parking lot, knowing where to go without Jacob telling him. Jacob looks back at Alan. He’s sleeping with his head hanging forward, blond hair falling over his eyes. Jacob turns back around, glancing at Ricky. Ricky’s got all his attention on the road.

“You’re in a band,” Jacob says.

“Uh, yeah.”

“Cool.”

Ricky grins, taking praise, as he always has, like a gift. Jacob used to compliment him sometimes when he felt like seeing this exact expression, this genuine joy. “Stop sweet talking me,” Ricky says.

“You guys sounded good,” Jacob says. “But I’m surprised you don’t play, like, punk rock or something.”

“Trust me, I wish,” Ricky sighs. “I wish we could play something more grunge, more Nirvana, but Cassie says none of my songs work and hers are out of the question. She doesn’t even listen to punk rock.”

“Hm,” Jacob says. Then his brain catches up. “You write the songs?”

“Me and Cassie.”

“Wow.”

Ricky’s smile widens again, but he looks embarrassed too. “You’re making me blush, College Boy.”

That sounds about twenty times more flirtatious than Special Ed. “I’ve been promoted to College Boy,” Jacob says.

“Well, you’re in college now.” Ricky leans closer to the wheel. “Now that I’ve said it, though, it’s too embarrassing to repeat.”

“Oh, come on,” Jacob teases. “It’s better than Special Ed.”

“Well, you’re not your education level,” Ricky says. “I shouldn’t define you by it.”

Jacob stares at him.

“Or so some medical professionals have said to me.”

Jacob blinks in surprise. “Therapist?”

“Um, yeah, I guess.” Ricky makes a face. “Things were hard after high school.”

“Did something happen?”

Ricky stops the car at a stop sign. The road here is pretty empty this time of night and there are no cars to honk at them for not moving for too long. He turns to Jacob and then lowers his eyes. “My mom died.”

The look on his face sends a shard of glass down Jacob’s chest. He remembers what it was like losing his grandpa. “I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, it sucked. Sucks. But it happened years ago.”

“Is that why you left Florida?”

Ricky lifts his eyes to Jacob’s face. There’s a strange moment between them. A look passes between them that is entirely too vulnerable, too intimate for two guys who haven’t talked in years. Then, Ricky shrugs and the spell is broken. “I always hated Englewood.”

_Me too_ , Jacob doesn’t say. The car starts moving again.

It doesn’t take long to arrive in front of the the dorms, but it does take awhile to find a parking spot. Once they do, Ricky helps Jacob carry Alan all the way inside. They run into the RA as they wait for the elevator. She’s walking around in her pajamas with a bag of chips in hand.

“Hey, Ricky. You’re back,” she says when she sees them. “You and Alan back together?”

Ricky laughs. “No.”

“Shame. You two looked good together.” She stuffs a bunch of chips in her mouth and chews for a long moment, looking at Jacob. Alan groans and leans against him. “Oh, shit,” she says in a monotone voice. “Sorry, Jacob. He’s your boyfriend now, right?”

“Uh—” Jacob starts and the elevator opens in front of them.

“Later,” she says and walks back in the direction of the lounge area.

Ricky starts to enter the elevator first and Jacob has to rush inside to prevent losing his grip on Alan. Ricky's quiet. Jacob thinks about telling him he’s not actually dating Alan—or better said, he thinks about _how_ to tell him. Would it be weird to bring it up? Ricky doesn’t seem to care anyway.

They reach Jacob and Alan’s dorm in silence. Jacob’s starting to panic. The silence has to mean Ricky’s upset, right?

Ricky helps him tuck Alan into bed and then he says, “Well. Bye then.”

Jacob grabs the back of his jacket. “Wait.”

Ricky turns back to him, fixing his jacket.

“Your number…” Jacob flushes. “I mean, I wanna be friends again.”

“Friends,” Ricky says. “I just… I don’t know how Alan would feel about me making friends with his boyfriend.”

Jacob frowns. “Why?” He shakes his head. “No, I mean, Alan and I are just friends.”

“Oh,” Ricky says in surprise.

“But, even then, we’d just be friends. Why would that bother him?”

Ricky rubs the back of his neck and shrugs. “He’s kinda the jealous type, I guess.”

Jacob starts rambling, his nerves rattling inside him. “I mean, it’s fine, I guess, if you don’t wanna be my friend. God, this is awkward. You just don’t want to be friends, huh? I’m sorry for making this so fucking awkward. I shouldn’t have—”

“Hey.” Ricky grabs him by the shoulders, smiling. “Hey, it’s cool. Give me your phone.”

Jacob hands over his phone, aware his face is probably the shade of a tomato. He looks at his shoes as Ricky puts his number in his phone and he still doesn’t look at him when Ricky hands it back to him.

“I’ll see you then,” Ricky says.

Jacob nods and sees Ricky to the door. Well, not literally sees him because his head is still down. Ricky doesn’t leave right away. Instead, he lingers, sighing and then gently grabs Jacob’s shoulders. Jacob looks at him.

Ricky hugs him, his arms wrapping around Jacob's back. It’s not the kind of hug Jacob has had with other guy friends. It’s a slight more desperate, the kind you give to someone you’ve missed. He doesn’t get the chance to hug back. Ricky lets go, giving him a salute goodbye and slips into the hallway.

Something warm settles in Jacob’s stomach, making his mouth twitch into a reluctant smile. He walks to his bed, sitting down so he can untie his shoes.

Alan has his eyes open. He’s giving Jacob a narrow-eyed look.

“What?” Jacob says.

“It was you, wasn’t it?” Alan whispers like he’s saying something scandalous. “You’re the _friend_.”

“What?” Jacob repeats and then remembers. “The friend he was in love with, you mean?”

“So you _do_ know.”

“No way, Alan.” Jacob pauses, considering the possibility before he can stop himself. “No way,” he says again, laughing this time. He stops. “I mean, do you think…?”

“Noooooooo,” Alan whines. “Isn’t there some rule against this? Best friends can’t date ex’s.”

“I thought that only applied to straight people,” Jacob jokes. “Besides, I didn’t even realize we were best friends.”

Alan shakes his head. “Cold. That’s cold.”

“I’m joking,” Jacob says. “I really don’t think he meant me. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“Liar,” Alan says, but he sounds less upset about it than before. He sighs and turns onto his back, staring at the ceiling. “Both of you know each other better than I know either of you. I’m just, I’m just the middleman.”

Jacob takes off his shoes as Alan talks. He stands to change his clothes.

“He’s not great at relationships,” Alan says. “I know Emma fucked you up. I don’t want him to make it worse.”

He doesn’t say anything, just keeps pulling clothes out of his closet. Bringing up Emma seems really unfair—it’s reopened that wound he’d somehow managed to keep closed the last few hours.

“Jakey, he’s such an asshole. He lets you fall in love with him and then he pulls away because he can’t handle it. Please…” Alan starts crying and stops talking. He buries his face in his pillow. “I worry about you, Jakey. You’re so…”

Jacob stops, watching him fall asleep. He goes over to Alan’s bed, pulling Alan’s shoes off and then wrapping the blanket more carefully around him.

Best friends, he thinks as he resumes his nightly routine. When did that happen? Either way, Jacob doesn’t plan on letting himself fall into another relationship as serious as the one he had with Emma anytime soon.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't sure whether to post this right away or not but what the heck? Here it is.

Alan pulls the blanket from Jacob’s shoulders, shouting, “Get up, lazybones! It’s already noon!”

Jacob shivers and groans into his pillow, searching with one arm for the missing blanket. “You’re such an asshole,” he mutters.

“I’m bored. Get up already.”

“Aren’t you hungover?” Jacob peers at him through his fingers, trying to block out the light. Alan looks as fresh and cool as usual, hair slicked back stylishly, bright eyed and smooth faced.

“ _Please_ , Jacob,” he laughs.

Jacob finds his blanket and pulls it back onto his body, snuggling into the warmth of his bed. Alan grabs the other end. Jacob glares at him and they have a brief battle over the blanket, which Alan inevitably wins. “Don’t you have any other friends to hang out with?” Jacob snaps.

Alan feigns thoughtfulness, tapping his finger against his chin. “Hmm. Do I? I guess I could call up Ricky. Ask him if he’s up for a day long fling. For old times sa—” He stops, smiling at the look on Jacob’s face. “I’m joking.”

Jacob huffs and turns his back to him.

“Don’t be mad,” Alan says as he settles onto Jacob’s bed beside him. “How could I go after someone my best friend’s crushing on, even _if_ he’s my ex? At least _I_ respect the bro code.”

“I’m never speaking to you again.”

“You didn’t deny it.”’

There’s a moment of quiet between them as Jacob senses the seriousness coming from Alan’s voice. He sighs, already feeling tired by the trouble he sees coming. So what if he’s attracted to Ricky? It’s not like it’s anything serious—not nearly as serious as Alan is trying to make it out to be. Besides, he _is_ Alan’s ex. It would be asking for disaster if he were to pursue something with Ricky.

Though, Jacob thinks of him first as Ricky Pickering, ex-sort-of-best-friend. It even sounds complicated, but it gets even more so when he considers exactly what their friendship consisted of. Friends of convenience. Ricky used to be an image of what Jacob wanted to be and also dreaded becoming—he was strong, handsome—things Jacob found difficult identifying in himself before he met the peculiar children—but he was also someone stuck in place, someone who seemed to belong in the mundane, unchanging cracks of Englewood, Florida. The spaces Jacob desperately didn't want to exist in.

He’s realized he’s wrong, of course, after seeing him here. People are never as simple as they first seem and neither are relationships—friendships of convenience or otherwise.

“Why have you gone so quiet?” Alan asks after a long while.

“I told you I’m never speaking to you again.”

“You just did, smartass.” Alan elbows him and when Jacob doesn’t respond, despite the pain, he sighs and rests his head on Jacob’s pillow. “I don’t mind, really, if you do like him. I just don’t want to see it all blow up in your faces. You’re both so hopeless sometimes.”

“I told you—you don’t have to worry about it.” Jacob stares at the wall. “Things aren’t that simple—liking him, not liking him. It’s not worth pursuing.”

Jacob can almost see Alan rolling his eyes when he talks. “Oh, that’s _really_ reassuring. _Clearly_ , it’s nothing.”

“Ughh. Whatever. Go away, I’m sleeping.”

“Is that what I should tell him then? ‘Can’t hang out. I’m sleeping.’”

Confused, Jacob turns to face Alan and finds himself looking at his phone screen. A text from Ricky reads: _Hey. Wanna catch up tonight? I’m free all day_.

Jacob reaches for the phone, but Alan pulls it away, moving off the bed, and starts typing something back.

“Don’t you dare!” Jacob shouts, launching himself at him.

“Since you’re not pursuing him, it’s fine to turn him down, yeah?” Alan teases, dodging Jacob’s hands.

“No!”

“No?”

Jacob sighs and drops his arms. “The truth is…” The seriousness in Jacob’s voice makes Alan pause, his attention falling away from Jacob’s phone. Jacob glances to the side, avoiding eye contact. “The truth is…” He snatches the phone and skids past Alan, towards the bathroom. “You’re too easy to trick!” He slams the door closed.

“Fuck you!” Alan shouts from the other side.

Jacob leans against the door and erases the nonsense words Alan has typed into his phone. He reads Ricky’s message over again. And over again. They’re friends. They’re going to be friends, Jacob amends. Maybe actual good friends this time.

So it’s fine if Jacob sees him today.

He sends: _Yeah, let’s hang out. Do you have a time and place in mind?_

Right after he presses send, he wonders if he sounds too casual or not casual enough. Will Ricky be able to tell how much he agonized over a simple text? No, it’s fine. He’s freaking out over nothing. Jacob sighs and waits.

His phone buzzes. Ricky’s text says: _Let’s grab some food. I’ll pick you up in an hour?_

That’s not _tonight_ —that’s right now, Jacob thinks. He checks the time on his phone. It _is_ lunchtime. He writes back _okay_ and then gets ready to take a very quick shower.

Once he’s out, he exits the bathroom in a towel with as much pride as he can muster, which dissolves when Alan whistles and says, “Let me guess. He’s on his way right now.” He’s sitting on his bed, eating chips and reading a comic book.

“He’ll be here in forty-five minutes, so no,” Jacob replies shortly and goes to his dresser.

“He so wants to get in your pants,” Alan says with only a very slight trace of unhappiness, though it’s there nonetheless.

“Are you fucking twelve?”

“Defensive. You wanna get in his pants too, I can tell.”

“Oh, please,” Jacob mutters as he gets dressed. Alan whistles again when he drops the towel. Jacob ignores him.

“With that ass, I can’t blame him,” Alan says. “Jacob, forget Ricky! Marry me!”

“No. And I already told you—I’m not gonna go after Ricky.”

Alan crunches on a potato chip. He sighs and tips his head back against the wall. “You’ll try to resist him, but his charm will fog your senses and before you know it! You’re in love! Running together hand in hand through a field of roses!”

Jacob rolls his eyes and examines a t-shirt for a long minute before pulling it on. He goes to the mirror to brush and style his hair.

“And then he’ll let go. And you’ll stumble, but he won’t wait for you. The roses are dead, you realize. And they have thorns.”

He should be studying theater, not psychology, Jacob thinks, getting annoyed. He turns to Alan, frowning, and says in a barely controlled voice, “Why do you keep saying things like that?”

Alan shrugs and sticks a potato chip in his mouth.

“You _really_ don’t want anything to happen between us.” It’s a risky thing to say, but it comes out of Jacob’s mouth too quickly to stop.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt—”

Jacob squeezes his hands into fists. “Bullshit.”

Alan’s face flashes. He throws the bag of potato chips aside and stands up, walking over to Jacob with his hands in his jean pockets. “You know what? If you want to fall into this pit with Ricky, fine. I don’t care. I’ve been there and I didn’t like it, so don’t worry about _me_ . Just know that someone like him, someone who's taught himself not to care about people—people like him don’t let other people in. You _are_ going to get hurt, Jacob, but don’t come fucking crying to me about it, okay?”

“He’s not… He wasn’t like that—” Jacob starts. This argument has gone too far and he doesn’t know how to stop it.

“Well, things change in four years.” Alan grabs his wallet off his bedside drawer. “His dad’s never been a part of his life. His mom died. And you, even you, disappeared on him.”

That stings more than he should let it. “You can’t put me on the same level as his parents. We weren’t that close,” Jacob argues.

“I know exactly who you are to him. I saw it last night, while you two talked in his car.”

_Of course_ he was awake.

Alan walks out, grabbing his jacket as he slams the door behind him.

Jacob paces the room. He sits down on his bed and puts his hand in his head. _It’s not that serious_ . Alan is jumping to conclusions. Jacob’s still trying to get over Emma—he’s not about to jump into a relationship with someone, especially not if Alan’s right. It’s _Ricky_ , for god’s sake. Yeah, Jacob always kind of wanted to make out with him, but that’s all. It’s never been more than that—why should it now?

He considers canceling on Ricky. He considers it for so long that it becomes too late and then his phone is buzzing and Ricky’s texted him that he’s waiting for him outside.

***

Jacob slams the car door shut.

“Woah there,” Ricky says. “Watch it, dude, I’ve decided I want this car to last.”

“Sorry.” Not looking at Ricky, Jacob buckles in and asks, “So, where are we going?”

“You okay?”

“I’m fine.”

Ricky hesitates long enough that Jacob turns to see why they haven’t started moving yet. He meets Ricky’s eyes and his heart jumps in his chest, as if he’s just been caught in a lie. Like Ricky knows what Jacob told Alan and can see it’s a lie—the part about not wanting to pursue Ricky. Because Ricky _is_ handsome. He _does_ have a sort of dangerous charm—the charm Alan warned him about.

Jacob doesn’t need to be warned. He remembers this feeling.

“Are we going to stare at each other all day?” Ricky asks, his lips quirking upwards.

Jacob laughs, embarrassed, and sinks in his seat. “Where are we going?”

“How about a food truck? Do you like Mexican food?”

Jacob nods and doesn’t tell Ricky he’s never been to a food truck before, which, of course, must be why Ricky asks him, “Have you ever been to a food truck?”

“I’m a college student in Portland, Oregon.”

“So no?” Ricky laughs.

“No.”

Ricky laughs harder. He puts the car in drive and starts to edge into the street.

“How’d you know?” Jacob asks.

“Hey, we’re not total strangers. Your eyebrow twitches when you’re lying or hiding something. It always has.”

“No, it doesn't!” Jacob says horrified. “I’m a good liar!”

Ricky snickers.

“I lie to my parents all the time and they don’t notice,” Jacob insists.

Ricky pulls into the busy road when he spots an opening. “I can believe that.” He glances at Jacob as he touches his eyebrows, frowning. “Don’t worry. It’s not that noticeable.”

“Then why did you notice?”

Ricky shrugs, eyes on the road. He’s smiling. Jacob relaxes and leans his head against the cold window, watching Ricky’s face from the corner of his eye.

They stop at a small collection of food trucks: trucks that serve Thai or Indian food or just pancakes and waffles. It’s not busy, possibly because of the cold. They pass a few people as Ricky leads him to the Mexican food truck. He’s tall enough that he doesn’t have to stand on his tiptoes—like Jacob would—to reach the height of the open window.

“Hey, Carmella,” he says.

A girl with dark hair leans over the counter to look at them. “Hey,” she says. She meets Jacob’s eyes and smiles. “Hello.”

“Um, hi.”

“ _Es tu novio_?” Carmella asks Ricky.

“No.  _Tres flautas de pollo_ and…” Ricky turns to Jacob. “What do you want?”

Jacob looks to the menu. “Uh… tacos?”

“How many? What meat?”

“I don’t know… Two? Chicken?”

Ricky turns back to Carmella. “ _Dos tacos de pollo_.”

“I heard him,” Carmella laughs. “ _Quieres que sea tu novio_?”

Ricky’s face twitches. Jacob wonders what in the heck they’re talking about. The only thing he remembers from Spanish is how to introduce himself and a few words here and there.

“No,” Ricky says.

“ _Es guapo. Me lo das?_ ”

Ricky smiles. “Nope. A Dr. Pepper and a Coke too.”

Jacob shoots Ricky a surprised look. He still remembers Jacob likes Coke. Ricky doesn’t seem to notice him, his attention on Carmella as they exchange some secretive, telepathic message.

“Okay, okay.” She tells them their total, which Jacob is surprised is so small, and before he can pull out his money, Ricky pays for him. She disappears further into the food truck.

Jacob blinks at Ricky and puts his wallet back in his pocket. Ricky throws an arm over his shoulders and says, “I invited you so I’ll pay for you.”

The arm around his shoulders is casual, there’s not denying that, but it doesn’t _feel_ casual. It feels charged. Like it could turn into something else if Jacob just turns the right way. _Control yourself_ , Jacob thinks. “Who was she calling handsome?” he says.

Ricky pulls his arm back as if stung. “You could understand us?”

“No, I just know that _guapo_ means handsome.” He remembers walking down the hallway beside Ricky and passing a group of girls speaking Spanish. One of them said that word— _guapo_ —and they laughed and looked in their direction. He still doesn’t know which of them they were referring to.

“She was calling me handsome,” Ricky says, tipping his head to the side. “Sorry, bro. My charm is too strong.”

Jacob bristles, despite knowing it’s a joke. “Do you like girls?”

“I’m gay,” Ricky says like it’s obvious. “Do _you_ like girls?”

“Yes,” Jacob replies easily.

“Oh, I thought…” Something in Ricky’s face shutters closed. His shoulders tense.

“I like boys too,” Jacob admits. “I’m bisexual.”

It’s impossible to interpret the sigh Ricky exhales or the way his body loosens, relaxes, as anything but relief. Jacob bites his bottom lip, nearly buzzing with the thrill of seeing this from Ricky.

After a moment, Carmella interrupts their silence by bringing each of them their food. “Thank you!” She waves at them as they make their way back to Ricky’s car to eat within warm walls.

As Jacob dives into his food, the smell awakening his hunger, Ricky turns the radio on low volume. Classic rock fills the car. They eat without speaking, Jacob enjoying the food more than he expected he would and Ricky humming to the music when he isn’t busy chewing.

Ricky licks his lips and misses a bit of sour cream.

“You’ve got some sour cream on your face.” Jacob points at his own face, showing him where.

Ricky frowns and tries to lick it off, failing.

“No, it’s still there,” Jacob laughs.

“Get it for me?” Ricky asks, eyelids lowering.

“Uh, um.” Jacob starts to reach for his face, but Ricky laughs, wiping it off himself. Jacob drops his hand, his face warm.

“I’m joking,” Ricky says, not having noticed Jacob reaching for him.

Jacob’s heart is pounding and he tries to breathe slowly. He drinks from his Coke.

“What do you wanna do after this?” Ricky asks. “Cassie is having some people over. Do you maybe want to go to that?”

Jacob frowns.

“No pressure. We can do whatever,” Ricky adds.

“No. I mean, it’s fine. Would it be okay if I went? I wasn’t invited.”

“She says it’s a get-together, but like every sitcom ever, it’s gonna be a party. She won’t mind.”

“Okay.”

“Yeah?”

Jacob nods. Ricky smiles at him and that feeling from earlier is back. Like if one of them says the right thing right now, this moment could turn into something else. The air between them is magnetic and Jacob finds himself leaning ever so slightly in his direction.

Ricky says, “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yeah.”

“Do you miss Florida?”

The question is unexpected. Jacob leans against the door, breaking the moment. “I don’t know,” he says. “I guess I miss having people around me. People who know me.”

“Alone in the city, huh?”

“Well, what about you? Do you miss it?”

Ricky shrugs. “Sometimes I think about it, but I don’t know if it’s because I actually miss it or because that’s where my mom’s grave is.” He laughs. “I’m bringing down the mood.”

“It’s okay,” Jacob says quickly. “Really, it’s fine.”

Ricky glances at him from the corner of his eye. He’s finished his food, Jacob notices. “Why aren’t you going back home for the holidays?”

“What?”

“I mean, Alan told me he was staying in the dorms this winter because he didn’t want to leave his roommate alone. So, I figured that meant you aren’t going back for Christmas.” Ricky shrugs again, an attempt to lighten the mood.

A short second of awkward silence passes between them. Jacob turns to look out the window. “It’s just easier.”

“Easier how?”

Now it’s Jacob’s turn to shrug. It ends the conversation. He resumes eating, trying to fill the sudden awkwardness with _something_. Ricky turns up the radio and they listen to classic rock until they have to get out to throw away their paper plates.

Once they’re back in the car, Ricky starts it up, saying, “Still want to go to that party?”

“Mhm,” Jacob says. “Just don’t ditch me in the middle to go make out with someone or something.”

“Don’t worry,” Ricky laughs and pulls out of the parking lot.

***

There are already several people drinking and dancing to low music when Ricky and Jacob enter Cassie’s house. Ricky says hi to many of them as they make their way over to where Cassie is talking to the other members of the band. When she notices Ricky, she lets out a surprised squeal and hugs him briefly. “Thought you weren’t going to come. Didn’t you have a hot date?”

Ricky points at Jacob. “This is Jacob,” he says. “My hot date.”

Cassie blinks and remembers to smile. “Oh, hey. I remember you from yesterday,” she says and shakes his hand. “Well, that didn’t take long,” she says to Ricky.

Jacob flushes.

“Actually, we’re old friends,” Ricky says, patting Jacob on the back. “Catching up, reminiscing, you know the deal.”

“Hm,” she says and, after a moment, adds, “Oh! I think I’ve got this lyric figured out finally. Look it over.” She pulls a small notepad from her pocket, flipping through it until she finds the page she’s looking for, and hands it to Ricky.

Ricky reads it over and makes a face. “Cassie, I don’t think the word lime is any better than orange.”

She huffs. “What’s wrong with it, then? At least it’s rhymable.”

“But it’s still a fruit.”

Cassie takes back the notepad. “Fine. I’ll rewrite it _again_.”

The long-haired guitarist who has been quietly drinking next to them and listening to the drummer of the band talk about a TV show she recently started watching suddenly perks up as a girl stops to say hi to them.“Hey,” he says coolly to the girl.

She nods at him and then starts to move away.

“I have an idea!” Cassie exclaims, making the girl stop. “Let’s play truth or dare.”

No one says anything for a second. Ricky gives Jacob a _what is she talking about_ look. Jacob shrugs back, smiling, glad that Ricky hasn’t forgotten he’s there.

“Come on, guys. It’ll be fun,” she adds.

“We’re going to play truth or dare at four in the afternoon?” Ricky asks.

Cassie nods.

“Oh, shit,” Ricky says. “I forgot we were all still in high school. Garrett, you can’t drink.” He takes the drink from the guitarist's hands. “You’re underage, bro.”

“Fuck off, bro,” the guitarist says and takes the drink back. The drummer laughs.

“Oh, shut up,” Cassie says. “HEY! WHO WANTS TO PLAY TRUTH OR DARE?”

At the sound of her booming voice, a few people walk over to them, laughing and nodding and shouting back. Someone hands Jacob an unopened beer as they migrate to mostly unoccupied sofas. Ricky sits down beside Jacob as he takes off his coat. He has a beer too, but he puts it down on the table in front of them without opening it.

“Rules!” Cassie says and people settle down. “Let’s see… If you refuse to do the dare or tell the truth, you have to…”

“Strip!” the drummer shouts.

Cassie laughs. “Strip! You have to strip.”

Ricky whispers to Jacob, “Are you cool with this?”

Jacob shrugs. “It’s fine. Just a party game.”

He nods and turns back to listen to Cassie.

“Alright. I’ll start,” Cassie says and takes a drink of her beer. She turns to the girl who came up to say hi earlier. “Truth or dare?”

The girl flushes under the attention—Jacob can understand. “Uh, truth?”

“If you had to make out with me or Garrett, who would you choose?” Cassie asks.

The girl flushes deeper. She takes off her coat.

“Neither of us,” Cassie says to Garrett. “We both lose.”

“Shut the fuck up,” Garrett snaps, embarrassed.

Several people go before anyone calls on Ricky or Jacob. Jacob’s actually starting to get comfortable, figuring no one will pick him since no one knows him. He watches as people dance ridiculously and admit embarrassing things and take off articles of clothing. Ricky is so quiet beside him that Jacob checks to see he’s still awake a few times.

Then, it’s Cassie’s turn again. “Ricky,” she says.

“Oh, great,” Ricky mutters.

“Truth or dare?”

“Dare,” Ricky sighs like it’s too much trouble.

“I dare you to kiss the most attractive person in the group.”

“Be original, Cassie,” Ricky responds.

“Whatever. I know you want to.”

Ricky rolls his eyes. He turns to Jacob, as casual as ever, and gives him a quick kiss on the lips. It happens too fast for Jacob to do anything in response. Ricky leans back and says, “My turn, right? Jacob.”

Jacob shakes himself out of a daze. “Yeah?”

“Truth or dare?”

“Tr… Truth.”

Ricky sighs and leans close again. In a low voice, he says, “Wanna make out with me?”

Jacob stares at him, trying to tell if he’s really asking. Everything on his face says _yes_ , he is really asking; the seriousness in his eyes, the downward curve of his mouth, the tension, as if waiting for rejection, in his body.

“Yeah,” he says.

Ricky grabs his arm and pulls him to his feet.

“Use protection!” Cassie shouts as Ricky leads him upstairs.

They pass a few doors—it’s evident Ricky knows his way around here—until Ricky stops in front of a room. He pushes open the door, leading Jacob inside. Jacob leans back against it, shutting it and Ricky locks it.

Jacob has time to notice that the walls are a lighter green than Ricky’s hair and then Ricky moves close, blocking his view of anything but him. Jacob suddenly can’t believe this is happening, that they’ve come to this so quickly. At the same time, though, he’s not surprised this is where they ended up and he knows it didn’t happen quickly at all. There’s been years and years of wishing for this.

Ricky presses his lips carefully against Jacob’s. Jacob’s eyes shut without his permission and he wraps his arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer, deepening the kiss. An impatience has started in the center of his chest, a thread connecting him to Ricky, asking for more.

Ricky complies, somehow knowing, and kisses a bit more desperately, a bit more roughly. He bites Jacob’s bottom lip, his chin, his neck, lips trailing over the barely-there pain like remedies. In response, Jacob kisses the skin below his ear, his hands moving through the inside of Ricky’s jacket, over his shoulders.

Ricky moves his arms and the jacket falls to the floor. Jacob moves his hand underneath his shirt, touching warm bare skin. Ricky shivers. Jacob grins, thrilled by the reaction.

“Come here,” Ricky whispers and pulls him towards the bed further into the room. Jacob lays back onto it, Ricky following him as he moves backwards towards the headboard. He catches Ricky’s shirt and pulls him closer to continue kissing. His lips are buzzing, his skin tingling as Ricky pushes his shirt up to run his fingers along his stomach.

His fingers trace the edge of Jacob’s jeans. Jacob bites Ricky’s lip, heat collecting in his lower belly. “You’re teasing me,” he complains.

“Mhm.”

_Fine_ , Jacob thinks and buries his hands in Ricky’s hair, bringing his face to his and kissing him hard. Long enough that Ricky’s breathing gets heavy and his body subconsciously fits itself against Jacob’s, leg settling on top of his. When his hand goes to Jacob’s face, Jacob stops kissing him.

Ricky tries to kiss him again and Jacob dodges, pressing a sloppy kiss to his neck. He kisses a trail downwards, until he reaches Ricky’s shoulder, moving his shirt to expose as much skin as possible.

“Let me keep kissing you,” Ricky says.

Jacob lifts his head, giving him a slow kiss that he quickly returns. Their eyes shut again and Jacob lets go, lets the sensations and emotions start building inside him. He forgets where he is and how they got here. The most solid thing in the world is Ricky’s hands up his shirt and his lips tracing his skin.

His lips are starting to turn numb. At some point, Jacob switches positions with Ricky so he’s the one held above him, reaching down to bite at Ricky’s jaw. His hair is vibrant green against the white pillow and Jacob can’t stop pulling back to see the color and run his fingers through the soft strands. Ricky repeatedly grabs his shirt to bring him back down and Jacob complies, more than willingly. There’s so much of Ricky to explore, so much skin to kiss.

Jacob’s phone lets out a short _ping_ , startling them both. They pull apart. Jacob blinks, dazed, and takes out his phone. It’s a text from Alan. It surprises him to see Alan’s name.

“What?” Ricky asks impatiently.

“It’s just Alan,” Jacob says. The text reads: _Bought you some fucking sushi. If you never plan on coming back, tell me so I can eat it_. “He bought me sushi.”

“How sweet of him.”

Jacob sighs. “Yeah, uh… We kinda got into a fight before you picked me up, so… I should go back. You know. Make up with him and stuff.” Explain some things.

Ricky says nothing for a long moment. He closes his eyes and opens them again. “Was it about me?”

“Uhhh…” The answer is obvious now that Jacob’s hesitated for so long and he says, “Yeah. He thinks I’m gonna… gonna, like, jump into a relationship with you or something.”

“Well…” Ricky starts and Jacob holds his breath. “Just because we made out doesn’t mean we’re in a relationship.”

“Yeah.” Jacob breathes out. “Uh, yeah. I’m still… still getting over my ex, so… I don’t want a relationship with anyone.”

“Okay.” Ricky moves off the bed and picks up his jacket. The distance between them makes Jacob nervous but he just watches as Ricky fishes out a cigarette and a lighter. “I’ll take you back then.”

They walk back downstairs, fixing their clothes and hair. People turn to look at them when they step into the living room. Cassie smiles, rolls her eyes, and hands Jacob his coat. “Hope you didn’t make a mess,” she tells Ricky. “You’re gonna clean up the second you come back.”

Ricky blows smoke in her face, which makes her kick him on the butt as he passes her.

“Uh, bye,” Jacob says to her and Cassie waves.

“You both have sex hair, by the way.”

Jacob flushes. “Whatever,” Ricky says and throws an arm over Jacob’s shoulders. “See ya, Cassie.”

Ricky drives him back to his dorm. Jacob doesn’t realize they kissed for so long until he sees it’s starting to get dark out. Now that it’s over, he’s slightly embarrassed to have so many people knowing what he and Ricky were up to and he’s starting to worry about having done or said something wrong. Ricky’s been quiet the entire ride back.

The car stops in front of Jacob’s dorm building. Ricky blows smoke out his open window as Jacob unbuckles.

“That was… That was fun.” Jacob gulps and wishes he could take the words back.

Ricky laughs. “Yeah, it was.” He leans over—Jacob automatically moves closer too—and they exchange a short, chaste kiss. “Nice catching up with you. I’ll see you later.”

“See you,” Jacob confirms and gets out of the car.

He makes his way up to his room slowly, looking back to watch Ricky drive away and then pressing his lips together, remembering, before pushing the elevator button.

When he walks into his room and sees Alan sitting on his bed, eating his sushi, he stops, waits for the reaction. He knows he what he must look like. Alan lifts an eyebrow. “Look who was fucking right.” He gestures to a plastic bag on Jacob’s bed. “Eat your sushi and tell me what happened before I force it out of you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> what better way to hit on your friend than party games
> 
> Translation of that one scene for my non-Spanish-speaking readers:  
> Carmella: He your boyfriend?  
> Ricky: No. Three chicken flautas.  
> ...  
> C: I heard him. You want him to be your boyfriend?  
> R: No.  
> C: He's handsome. Can I have him?


	3. Chapter 3

“What do you want for Christmas besides my ex-boyfriend?” Alan asks as he browses through a collection of random vintage clothes.

Jacob puts down a Polaroid camera with some reluctance and rolls his eyes at Alan. “Are you gonna say shit like that everyday?”

Alan shrugs, pulling out a faded, yellow furry coat. He laughs at the face Jacob makes at it and puts it back. “Nah,” he says. “I’ve thought about it. I guess you two know each other well enough to know what you’re doing.” He slides past Jacob, picking up the Polaroid camera. “You still broke the bro code, though.” He snaps a picture, but there’s no film inside.

It’s been a few days since Jacob made out with Ricky and still, the very thought of it makes him grin.

“Ugh,” Alan says, seeing his smile. He turns to the cashier at the front of the store. “Hey! Is this camera really worth a hundred dollars?”

The cashier yells something back, but it’s hard to make out. Alan sighs. “This place is a ripoff. Bet you can get these for thirty dollars off eBay.” He yells, “I’ll give you fifty for it!”

“Wait, why?” Jacob says.

“Why? Christmas. Have you not been listening? Too caught up thinking about Ricky?”

“I don’t need this camera.” Being an out-of-state college student living entirely off student financial aid has given Jacob a different perspective on a hundred dollars.

Alan lifts both eyebrows. “Here I was trying to help you find your passion. Fine then.” He puts the camera back and heads into a different aisle.

Jacob shoots it a longing look and then follows Alan, deciding he better start looking for gifts too.

“Oh, have you seen your grades yet? They were posted today,” Alan says, slipping on a pair of purple sunglasses.

Jacob stops breathing. “I forgot.” He takes out his phone to look at his grades.

Alan watches, obviously having claimed the sunglasses as he slips them up into his hair. He leans over Jacob’s shoulder to see as letters appear on the screen. Jacob scrolls past all the classes he knows he did well in—expectedly, they’re A’s—to his dreaded physics class. His heart has started pounding, his hands feel weirdly numb. He tries to control his breathing.

It’s a B.

Jacob sighs, his whole body relaxing to the point he has to resist sliding to the floor. He laughs.

“What, you did fine,” Alan says. “Worried for nothing.”

“Worry is my middle name,” Jacob says.

“This calls for a celebration!” Alan says. “To the bar! Pick your things quickly, I’ll go pay for this, and then we can go drink and rock out to _Wings and Oceans_.”

“Wings and…?”

“That’s Ricky and Cassie’s band name, Jacob. Where’ve you been? It’s based off some Greek myth, the guy who flew into the sun. Cassie’s into that stuff.”

“Icarus?”

“Yeah, whatever. Let’s go drink.”

“I’m starting to think you have a drinking problem.”

“You wanna see Ricky anyway. And _I_ wanna see what’s up with you two.”

“Please don’t make it weird,” Jacob says.

Alan snorts. “You do that enough for both of us.”

As it turns out, Ricky’s band isn’t playing tonight. Instead, there’s low background music coming from the stereos and fewer people at the tables. Alan sighs as they slip into their chairs, slipping his sunglasses into his blond hair. “Fuck,” he says. “He’s not here.”

Jacob tries not to show how disappointed he is by shrugging. “Well, whatever. We can still drink.”

Alan narrows his eyes. “Did you know he wouldn’t be here?”

“No.”

“Uh huh. Are you sure you’re not just trying to avoid us meeting?”

Jacob gives him a look. A waiter comes by their table and they both order and then Alan leans closer to say, “You don’t want your best friend and your boyfriend to be around each other.”

The word boyfriend rings through Jacob’s head. He leans back and sighs, eyes falling to the table. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“So you say—”

“He’s not.”

Alan puts his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay.”

They spend the rest of the night drinking and, thankfully, this time Alan doesn’t get too drunk. Jacob, however, takes maybe a drink too many. He’s busy thinking about the word “boyfriend” and the word “ex-girlfriend” and “Ricky” and “Emma” and eventually that turns into thinking about Florida and his Peculiar friends. Then, his parents. His dad and photography. He remembers the camera at the vintage shop.

He doesn’t notice how much he’s drunk until he takes a shot and the fog suddenly descends inside his head.

“I’m drunk,” he tells Alan, his tongue heavy in his mouth. He can’t tell if he’s slurring.

“Oh, boy.” Alan has never seen him this drunk before. Jacob doesn’t know if he’s ever been this drunk in front of someone before. No, wait. There was a party once. Ricky was there. He lays his head on his arms, sighing, remembering high school now too.

“Why do you like Ricky?” Jacob asks.

“What? I don’t—”

Jacob glares at him. “Fine. Why _did_ you like Ricky?”

Alan shrugs. “The charm. The confidence. What about you? What do you even like about him?”

“Not his confidence,” Jacob laughs, remembering what things used to be like. The times Jacob corrected Ricky’s words and he flushed in embarrassment or the way Ricky’s shoulders would slump and he would retreat inwardly when Jacob’s mother would look him up and down, criticizing silently. It only happened every once in awhile, but it was enough for Jacob to pick up on, to make sense of. His confidence, to Jacob, felt heavily fabricated back then. “I mean, I like it _now_. It’s different now. Us.”

After a long moment, in which Alan sips his drink and puts it down and then sips again, Alan says, “Did you like him in high school too?”

Jacob snorts. How does he even begin to explain? He blinks and his eyelids almost don’t open. “One time, he picked me up from work after a bad day and we…” The words weigh a lot in his mouth, but the burning inside him tells him he has to tell this story somehow. “We drove out to the beach. It was nighttime so no one was there. We lined up some seashells along the rockside and Ricky grabbed his gun from the car and tried to shoot them.”

He pauses, breathing. “He sucked. He couldn’t aim, I said. He was like, ‘you try then.’ I’d never held a gun before. My hands were shaking.” Jacob extends his arms, staring at his hands as if they’re shaking now. “He steadied my arms. I took the shot and I got one. Right in the center. But that’s not what… What I remember most is how—how his arms tightened and he reached over to put the safety on. I put the gun down because it kinda freaked me out, you know, all that power, and he just looked at me, all smiles, before he practically _threw_ me over his shoulder, and started screaming the lyrics to Sweet Victory.”

Jacob laughs, for some, probably alcohol related, reason wanting to cry. “There weren’t a lot of times when we felt like real friends, not like that night. Tried to make it happen again—the friend thing—but there was something missing.”

He can’t stop himself from talking, though a part of him knows he’s going to be embarrassed about admitting this later. “So, yeah, at times like that, I think, maybe, I was… I liked him a lot.”

He looks up and Alan is giving him a sympathetic look. He pats Jacob on the shoulder and says, “God, you’re so drunk. Let’s go back.”

“Mm.” Jacob stands and stumbles. Alan takes his arm. “What was missing?”

“I can’t say,” Alan responds quietly.

The next morning, Jacob wakes with a dry mouth and a headache. He groans into his pillow, covering his head with his comforter. Sunlight is bleeding through the curtains, shining light into the room and Jacob’s eyes burn at the sight of it. He opens his eyes, pulls the comforter down, just a bit, and suffers through looking.

Alan is asleep, snoring lightly, one leg hanging off the side of the bed. Jacob focuses on the streaks of sunlight, letting Alan become a blur and the dust floating in the sun rays to sharpen. He watches the dust float, thinking about how the sun makes them glittery, a product of the sun itself. He would like to take a picture, to save this thought, and he reaches for his phone. He snaps a photo, but the dust is invisible on the screen.

Sighing, he drops his phone onto his bed and goes back to sleep.

His ringtone doesn’t wake him, but Alan’s tired shout does. Jacob searches and finds his phone within his bed sheets without opening his eyes and answers without looking at the screen.

“Hello?”

“Jake?”

Jacob’s eyes snap open. “Dad?”

“You called me, but all I heard was rustling. You okay, bud?”

“Uh, yeah.” Jacob glances at the clock. It’s only eight. “I must’ve pressed a button while I was asleep. Sorry.”

A silence descends between them, the sort that would be full of heaviness and unspoken words if he and his dad were looking at each other face-to-face. On the phone, having just woken up, Jacob hears only breathing and feels only the return of a headache. He closes his eyes.

“You know, it’s not too late to come back for Christmas. Miss Peregrine visited the other day to ask how you’ve been doing. I’m sure they all miss you… Your mom and I miss you too.”

“Yeah, I miss you guys too,” Jacob says. “I just… I really can’t. Professor Johnson said he really appreciates my help, as an assistant and all, and I’d feel bad just leaving in the middle.” He touches his eyebrow, feeling it twitch without his permission.

There’s a pause. “Yeah,” his dad says. “Yeah, okay. I’m glad you get along with your professors. That’ll come in handy. Well, okay.”

“Okay, Dad.”

“See you spring break then? Love you.”

“Mm. Love you too. Bye.” Jacob doesn’t press the red button. He waits for his dad to mumble out another goodbye and then fumble for a moment with the phone before ending the call.

A rush of guilt overwhelms him for a second, his heart speeding up in his chest and his hands going tingly. He realizes he’s tense, his teeth pressed together so tightly it’s beginning to hurt.

He takes a few slow breaths, trying to get back to sleep, but his chest is starting to hurt and his headache won’t let him go.

Alan gets up first and brings Jacob some Advil and water. Jacob takes his medicine, gratefully, and then glances at the clock again. It’s eleven now. Alan sits down on Jacob’s bed, slipping in beside him.

“What do you want?” Jacob groans.

“I wanna talk.”

“You know you’re not a therapist yet?”

“A talk between friends, jeez!”

“I don’t wanna be psychoanalyzed.” Jacob doesn’t say he hates therapists, but Alan can probably tell from the tone of Jacob’s voice or the occasional comment he makes when they talk about Alan’s major.

“I’m not skilled enough to do that,” Alan jokes. “It’s just, last night, you kinda told me all your secrets.”

“Did not.”

“You confessed your love for Ricky to me and it was really emotional. You cried and everything.”

Jacob rolls his eyes. “I remember what I said. Mostly.”

“Then you know I’m telling the truth.”

Jacob turns his back to him and stares at the wall. “Whatever.”

“You loved him and he didn’t return your feelings and now you’re reliving it all only to have your heart broken once again,” Alan says, his voice heavy with drama. “The vicious cycle.”

Jacob throws off his covers and jumps out of bed, climbing over Alan to reach the floor. “Your lack of support is starting to piss me off,” he says as he grabs a towel. “I told you this thing is no big deal and yeah, okay, sometimes I have… _feelings_ and stuff, but it’s controlled.”

Alan raises an eyebrow. “Where are you going?”

“I’m gonna ask him over. You should leave.”

He pretends to gasp. “You need to _shower_ for that? And you want me to _leave_? Scandalous, Jacob, scandalous.”

Jacob hits him with his towel and slips into the bathroom. He texts Ricky before he gets into the shower, waits for a response, and then after he gets a “sure, I’ll be there,” he resolves to prove to Alan and himself how completely physical this thing with Ricky is going to be.

***

Ricky brings pizza. Half Hawaiian, half pepperoni, just like they used to order it. Jacob opens the door, imagining already how he’ll pull Ricky in for a kiss, but the smell of pizza throws him and he pauses, stares at the pizza box.

“Hey,” Ricky says and opens the pizza box to show him how much he remembers about being teenagers together. “Hungry?”

Jacob nods, despite himself, and they end up sitting on the floor with Jacob’s laptop open to a random Netflix movie, eating pizza. He doesn’t really get how this happened. Watching movies together and eating pizza is hardly the exclusively sexual relationship Jacob was trying to get going here. If Alan came back to see this, he’d laugh.

The last time they saw each other, Ricky left bite marks on his neck. Isn’t he interested in doing that again?

As if reading his mind, Ricky throws an arm around Jacob’s shoulders and slumps against him. His eyes don’t leave the computer screen. Jacob’s not sure what’s happening in the movie.

“Where’s Alan?” Ricky asks.

Jacob flares with momentary annoyance. He moves, forcing Ricky to sit up straight. “He’s doing his own thing, I guess.”

“You didn’t… Nevermind.”

“What?” The annoyance fades away and Jacob notices the way Ricky’s glancing around the room and pressing his lips together—he looks worried. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

Jacob huffs, an action Ricky must recognize as a sign of irritation because he crosses his arms and says, “You told me you and Alan fought because of me and I don’t want you to keep fighting because of me.”

“That’s not really any of your business.”

Ricky’s face flashes with anger. “Well, Alan is my friend. It bothers me if he avoids me. You guys seem close. Doesn’t it bother _you_? Fighting?”

“He’s not avoiding you.”

“Huh?”

Jacob takes out his phone. “He’s not avoiding you. I asked him to leave us alone, but if you wanna see him, I’ll text him to come ba…”

Ricky takes Jacob’s phone out of his hand.

Jacob lets him, sensing the air in the room changing. He breathes, feeling hot, and Ricky bends to kiss him. Jacob closes his eyes, brings them closer by slipping his hand onto the back of Ricky’s neck and pressing forward. They push the pizza and the laptop away, clumsily, and Jacob stands, pulling Ricky to his bed with him.

Obediently, a little eagerly, Ricky lays down on Jacob’s comforter and lifts his arms to let Jacob pull off his shirt. They’re both shoeless and when Jacob kisses him, Ricky’s legs tangle in his, his feet pressing into his knees, his thighs.

Ricky’s hands slip under Jacob’s shirt and he pulls it off slowly, the palms of his hands barely leaving his skin, sliding upwards with the shirt.

It’s happening so fast. Jacob shivers and Ricky uses his legs to pull him closer, aligning their bodies so they’re touching in all the right places.

“Is it okay to keep going?” Ricky asks quietly.

Jacob nods quickly and gives him a long, sloppy kiss. He feels Ricky’s hand move down his stomach and undo the button of his jeans. He breathes, but then Ricky bites his shoulder and his fingers slip past the waistband of his pants and Jacob forgets how to keep calm.

***

For a long time afterwards, they lay in bed together. Ricky runs his fingers down Jacob’s cheeks, over his nose, against his lips. They’re talking in quiet voices, as if sharing secrets and, even though they’re only talking about their favorite books and musicians, it feels like they are. Every once in awhile, in the middle of talking, Ricky will move closer and peck him lightly on the lips. Jacob prepares for it to turn into something more intense, but it never does.

“They say you should watch out for people who say their favorite high school book is _Catcher in the Rye_ ,” Jacob says.

“Why’s that?” Ricky smooths out Jacob’s eyebrow.

“I think it has something to do with pretentiousness.”

“Oh? It’s not your favorite too?”

Jacob pinches his arm lightly and he cries out in mock pain. Jacob shushes him, whispering about neighbors, but mostly he wants to keep talking in this quiet way, like they’ve created a small, fragile space for just them.

Ricky laughs and talks quieter. “Nah, I just. I hated school too. Didn’t really trust anyone either. Besides, I’m convinced that kid just needed a hug and someone to talk to. I feel for him.”

“I guess it was kinda sad he never found someone to connect to,” Jacob sighs. “He did do it to himself, though.”

Ricky groans and throws his arm over Jacob’s shoulder. “We don’t have to debate this.”

“Clearly, our opinions are different,” Jacob concedes.

“Shh,” Ricky says and he traces the skin on Jacob’s collarbone. His eyelids lower and Jacob watches his face for a long time, wanting to bring his fingers to his lips, but not wanting to break this trance Ricky is in, his eyes roaming over Jacob’s neck and chest and lips. Their eyes meet and that just seems to make the trance stronger.

“I noticed,” Ricky starts. “The photography books on the bookshelf. Those are yours, right?”

“Oh, yeah. How'd you guess?”

“Alan’s not much for photography and… he mentioned you were into it. Because of your dad?”

Jacob rolls his eyes and snuggles closer to Ricky, hiding his face. “Can we not talk about my dad right after we’ve had sex? And no, not because of my dad. They don’t have birds in them. They’re mostly of people and places.”

“Oh yeah?” Jacob can tell Ricky’s smiling without looking. “Do you take photos?”

“Sometimes.”

A comfortable quiet falls between them. Jacob lifts his head and Ricky takes the opportunity to kiss him. Ricky’s hand travels down his waist and up again and Jacob shivers, suddenly very ready for another round.

Instead, Ricky’s hand goes to his collarbone and he opens his mouth hesitantly. He swallows as Jacob stares at him, waiting for him to say what he wants to say.

“Jacob,” Ricky says. “You know how you disappeared in high school?”

Something sharp drops in Jacob’s stomach. “Yeah…”

“Where did you go?”

The question makes Jacob suddenly aware he’s laying here naked and he shivers, from the cold this time, and pulls his comforter up to his shoulders.

Ricky drops his hand from Jacob’s collarbone. “You don’t have to tell me.”

Jacob says nothing.

“I shouldn’t have asked.” And he sounds so full of regret Jacob opens his mouth, ready to spill his secrets, but the words stop. His throat closes and he can’t breathe. “Are you okay?” Ricky asks.

He nods and presses his head into his pillow. When he opens his mouth, his voice is quiet. “I don’t have an answer for you.”

“It’s okay, Jacob…” Ricky runs a finger along his cheek and Jacob pulls back, avoiding it.

“This is too much.” Jacob sits up, his stomach rolling inside him.

Ricky sits up too. “No, no, no. It’s not, we’re just, we’re just messing around. I get it. You told me about… about your ex.” He tries to smirk, lighten the mood, but the panic in his eyes makes it obvious it’s anything but light.

Jacob takes a deep breath that doesn’t seem to reach his lungs. “Yeah, my ex.”

Ricky’s smirk is gone.

“We’re just messing around,” Jacob says. “So I think you should go.”

The words make Ricky wince. He nods, slips out of bed, and starts grabbing his clothes. Jacob doesn’t look at him. After long, long seconds, Ricky stops moving around. From the corner of his eye, Jacob can see he’s dressed, pulling on his leather jacket.

“I’ll call you,” Ricky whispers and doesn’t wait for a response before slipping out the door.

  
Jacob presses his face into his hands and feels a wave of heaviness descend on him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so bad at coming up with names for stuff I am SO SORRY


	4. Chapter 4

Cassie kisses her paycheck and spins in a circle, thanking the ceiling for giving her enough money to buy Christmas presents this year. The bar is empty right now—besides them, the owner is the only person inside. It’s an hour before opening, a moment of unusual quiet and light in a place usually dim and full of people.

Ricky smiles when Cassie looks at him, his own paycheck held with both hands. The other band members of _Wings and Oceans_ are already halfway out the door, on their way to deposit their money.

When Ricky first joined Cassie’s band, they were only paid in cash. They had no steady jobs, only a few gigs a month, and usually it was hardly enough to scrape by on.

With his mother gone, though, he had absolutely nothing to lose. No one to go back to in Florida. No one to disappoint by failing. And, besides, music is his comfort and confidence. The thing that changed his life after Jacob disappeared and the thing that pulled him out of his grief after his mom died.

“What’s wrong with you?” Cassie asks. “You’ve got money and you’re not even smiling!”

“Money is great,” Ricky says. “What do you want for Christmas, Cas? Some Doc Martins? I know you’ve always wanted some.”

“Oh, no, no, no,” Cassie says, slipping her arm through his. “You’re not changing the subject that easily. Tell me what’s wrong. Did you get dumped?”

Ricky almost flinches. He sighs and sticks his hands in his jacket pockets. “When’s the last time someone dumped me, huh?”

“Gonna be honest, that’s not exactly something to brag about.” She pinches his cheek, like a grandmother, and laughs as he swats her away. “It’s okay, Sunshine. I know you’ve got commitment issues. I’ll be sad to see this one go, but hey, what can you do?”

Ricky pulls away, disentangling her arm from his. The owner watches them from the corner of the room as she prepares for opening. “I don’t have commitment issues,” Ricky says.

“Oh no?” Cassie fans herself with her paycheck. “What happened with Alan then? Or the however many guys after him?”

It’s not cool, Ricky thinks, to have someone point out such a flawed part of a person so casually.

“I’m disappointed. I had hope for this one.”

“Knock it off,” Ricky snaps. “I haven't’ been dumped. _He_ hasn’t been dumped. No one’s been dumped and we’re not even dating. Okay?”

Cassie blinks. “Oh, geez. Okay. Don’t get mad.” She takes his arm again and leads him to the door, smiling up at him. All of it is weirdly comforting. She calls goodbye to the owner and they leave through the front door, deciding silently to walk to the bank.

“Has that one producer guy emailed you back?” Ricky asks, zipping up his jacket.

Cassie shakes her head and sighs. “Maybe if we had a few more songs that packed a real punch, someone would get back to us! Being an artist is hard work. I’m tired of working part-time at Powell’s.”

Ricky certainly knows what that feels like. Playing at a bar a few days a week doesn’t get them enough money to survive on. They stop at the end of the sidewalk and wait for the crossing sign to change.

“How’s the song coming along?” Cassie asks. She pulls her arm away so she can stick her hands in her pockets. She’s wearing gloves, but it’s so cold out.

Ricky watches his breath turn into fog. He shrugs. Cassie stares at him. “Not well,” he says finally. “Thought it’d be easier now that it’s been a few years, but I still can’t get the right words down.”

“Take your time.” She smiles at him. “Maybe you could write us some more love songs in the meantime.”

Ricky’s written one love song that they actually play. Just the one. Garrett and Ella think Cassie wrote it. Everything thinks she wrote it because she’s usually the one writing anything remotely romantic, not Ricky. He doesn’t correct them. He doesn’t want anyone to ask if it’s about someone.

They cross the street in silence.

After a long while, Cassie gives up on Ricky answering. She starts to sing Ricky’s love song. Memories play alongside the lyrics, beaches and backyards and car rides. If he heard it, he’d know it was about him.

Cassie’s melodic voice fades away. “I remember my first love,” she sighs. “It felt just like that, like your song. Guess yours didn’t love you back either.”

Ricky finds his cigarettes and puts one between his lips. Cassie’s still talking, but he’s too distracted trying to find his lighter to pay attention. She notices him fussing and stops walking, crossing her arms.

Ricky stops too. “What?”

“Light your cigarette.”

He takes out his lighter and puts the flame to his cigarette. Cassie clicks her tongue, but says nothing, and they start walking again.

After a long stretch of silence, while the air bites at their faces, at Ricky’s fingers as he smokes, Cassie says, “I miss her. The girl I loved in high school.” She grins at Ricky. “Well, your song makes me miss her. Maybe your next love song can have a happy ending so I can think of something easier every time I sing it.”

“My songs don’t have endings,” Ricky replies.

“Ohhh, how philosophical,” Cassie teases. “ _My songs, like life, are ongoing, rewritten each day, beginning anew with every sunrise_ —”

“Oh, shut up,” Ricky laughs. “I’m just saying I don’t think of them like stories.” He takes a drag of his cigarette, thinking, wanting to explain his love song. His heart rate goes up as he opens his mouth to confess. “It’s about Jacob. That song.”

If Cassie’s surprised, she doesn’t show it. “Huh.”

“It’s embarrassing as fuck now… Now that he’s back, you know? All those things I dredged up to write it…”

“Dredging up things makes for good songs,” she sighs. “We should play it next time we see—”

“Fuck no,” Ricky snaps. “He can’t hear that song. It’ll scare him away.”

Cassie frowns. “It’s one of our most requested songs, Ricky. Eventually, if he keeps hanging around, he’ll hear it.”

The cigarette is heavy between Ricky’s fingers. He takes a drag, trying to make it lighter. “Get the feeling he won’t be hanging around much longer.”

Gently, she slips her arm through his and lays her head on his shoulder. “Maybe you should talk to him about all this. Instead of hiding it from him. Call him."

“No, I’m not going to call him or talk to him or any of that shit.”

“Ever?” She laughs.

“Up to him.”

 

***

It’s nearly a week later that he sees Jacob again. Ricky and the band are setting up to play a set when he sees Alan and Jacob hovering nearby. Alan catches him watching them and waves, his usual smirk spreading across his face. Ricky puts down his bass and strolls over to them, hands in his pockets, as casual as possible.

“Hey,” he says and Jacob freezes, only noticing he’s there now.

“Hey, Ricky,” Alan says teasingly. “Came too early, didn’t we? I told you, Jacob. They’re only setting up now, but you were so eager to see them.”

Jacob shoots Alan a glare. Ricky shifts awkwardly from foot to foot.

“I just,” Jacob starts, turning to Ricky. “I guess I… need to talk to you for a sec.”

Alan slips away easily, settling at an empty table several feet from them.

Everything Ricky has learned over the years is telling him this is where Jacob tells him it’s over between them. No more make out sessions. No more sex. No more talking in bed together and touching each other’s hair and laughing. Everything is telling him to end it first, to tell Jacob before he can start that it’s been fun, but it’s time they both stopped this, before things get out of hand. End the hurt before it starts.

His mouth stays closed.

Jacob starts talking, “You didn’t call…”

It’s not what Ricky expected. He makes a face and leans forward as if he can’t hear him. “Huh?”

“I mean… You said you’d… Nevermind.” Jacob sighs loudly. “I know I was mean. I understand if you want to stop… you know, this.”

“You don’t?” Ricky’s shock bleeds into his voice and he clears his throat. “I mean, you said it was too much.”

“I just can’t answer questions about what happened when I was gone. And it was, you know, nice and stuff, being with you… like that.” Jacob flushes.

Ricky thinks he should be happy about the comment, should agree that _yes, it was really really nice_ , but another phrase jumps to the front of his mind, something else Jacob said to him.

“What about your ex?”

Jacob shakes his head in surprise. “What?”

“Your ex. You’re still in love with them.”

“I’m—It doesn’t—What does that have to do with this?”

“We’re just messing around,” Ricky says.

“Yeah.”

Ricky sighs and turns his head. His chest is tight with frustration. A big part of him doesn’t care, in this moment, about scaring him away. “I’m not messing around.”

Jacob’s jaw snaps shut.

“You knew that, right?” Ricky continues. “It’s why you kicked me out last time we were together.”

“That’s not why.”

Ricky lifts an eyebrow, encouraging him to elaborate. A moment passes and Jacob only shakes his head, his mouth pressed tightly together.

Cassie calls Ricky back to the stage. He waits another second, just to see if Jacob can come up with answer, and when he doesn’t he stalks back to the stage, gathers his band members together and says, “Let’s do the song.”

Garrett and Layla exchange confused looks, but Cassie’s face bursts into a smile. “ _Long Nights_?”

“We can’t start with that song. It’s our finisher,” Layla says.

“I wanna sing it,” Ricky says.

“What the fuck?” Garrett mutters.

Cassie glances at where Jacob is sitting down beside Alan. She crosses her arms, her mouth twisting as she thinks over what he’s said. “Okay.”

Layla throws her hands in the air, but moves to the back where her drums are set up. Garrett sighs like he can’t be bothered and picks up his guitar. Ricky and Cassie trade off microphone and bass. She smiles at him, gives him a pat on the shoulder like she’s proud, and says, “I don’t think I have to tell you not to fuck up your own song.”

He shrugs. “We’ll see.”

Layla starts the countdown.

Ricky glances at Jacob, who is looking at him, and takes a shuddering breath before leaning into the microphone. He hears the bass come in and sees from the corner of his eye Garrett prepare to start. When he starts, Ricky does too.

The lyrics leave his lips as easily as when he wrote them—which is to say, not at all. Jacob hasn’t realized what the song is about, if the blank look on his face is any indication, but he will soon. He will when he mentions the drive to the beach, that one night, when Ricky kept wanting to kiss him and didn’t. And then he says it—sings it. “ _Last night I dreamt of you and tonight in the sea chill I try again to kiss you_.”

Jacob’s expression changes, flashes with recognition, but he tries to control it.

Something inside Ricky rattles and he closes his eyes. He can’t keep looking at him while he’s singing.

“ _Lost ourselves in the sand. Broken seashells and shaking hands. Tonight I try again to kiss you. Tomorrow, tomorrow you’ll be gone._ ”

When he opens his eyes again, Jacob’s on his feet.

Ricky’s stomach dips. “ _Stay for the moment, love. Because this won’t happen again. No, we won’t be here again._ ”

Jacob stops near the exit, staring at the stage, wide eyed.

_Oh, it’s over_ , he thinks as the song comes to an end. He’s confessed everything and Jacob’s halfway out the door.

“Well, go!” Alan shouts, standing. Ricky frowns at him. “ _Go_!” He gestures towards the door Jacob’s disappeared past.

He climbs off the stage. Layla and Garrett shout at him and in a second Cassie is speaking over them, trying to calm them down. Ricky doesn’t look back. People move out of his way and he makes it to the door in no time.

The icy wind from outside bites his skin and he realizes he’s forgotten his jacket. The streets are painted blue from the dark sky and yellow from the streetlights. Jacob’s halfway down the sidewalk, paused underneath one of the lights, head tipped back as if looking into the sun.

He hears Ricky approaching and turns to him slowly, poised to run.

Ricky stops several feet away from him. People walk past them, oblivious to the way they look at each other, to the fact that the two of them aren’t strangers. Not at all, not at this second. Ricky recognizes the look on his face, the fear in his wide eyes, the way he’s frozen to his spot.

They wait until the sidewalk is full of only them, until they reach a rare moment of aloneness. No cars or people. Ricky says, “What did you think? Of my song?”

Jacob makes a pained expression. “I didn’t like it.”

“Why?”

“It’s—”

“Too much?” Ricky sighs. “Was it because I called you _love_?”

“When did you write that?” Jacob replies, breaking eye contact. “After we met up again?”

“No, a long time ago. Does it matter?”

“Yes.” Jacob shakes his head, angry like the answer should be obvious. “ _Yes_! I… I…” He shakes his head again.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Ricky says quietly.

Jacob steps out of the streetlight, away from Ricky. “I’m thinking… I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t handle all this right now.” He turns to leave and Ricky steps forward to stop him when something cold lands on his nose.

He stops, wipes at it.

Jacob’s stopped too. He looks up at the sky and a snowflake lands in his eyelashes.

It only takes that distracted second for Ricky to catch his arm and pull him back under the streetlight. Jacob doesn’t resist. In fact, he leans towards Ricky, fog clouding his face as he breathes.

“You scare me so much,” Ricky confesses. “Every time you show up, I break every fucking promise I’ve made to myself. I feel like a different person, like I don’t even know myself.”

“That sounds awful,” Jacob mutters.

“Well, maybe.” He brushes a snowflake from Jacob’s hair. “But it’s the truth. Now tell me why I scare you.”

“Scare me?” He crosses his arms and glances away.

“I’m not asking you to love me the way you loved your ex. I just want you to like me.”

“I _do_ like you,” Jacob sighs. “That’s the problem, Ricky! It’s been… It’s been no time at all and I like you, like a lot. But it’s _us_. It’s always been kinda weird between us. We—We don’t have a lot of moments like that night you wrote about.”

“We had one last time I saw you,” Ricky mutters.

Jacob clears his throat. “Besides, are you sure you aren’t in love with the guy I used to be?”

“I am,” Ricky admits. “But with you too. It’s just you.”

Flushing, Jacob throws his hands up in frustration. “Stop saying things like that! I’m trying to be serious!”

“I _am_ being serious,” Ricky snaps.

“You’ve always got one foot out the door and I get it, but—”

Ricky blinks rapidly and leans away. “What?”

“I said, I get why you have commitment issues and I’m not blaming—”

“Jacob, _you’re_ the one who walked out of the bar tonight.” The hot sensation of anger rises inside Ricky’s chest. He takes a deep breath of it and continues, “It’s _you_ who doesn’t want to get hurt. _You_ who can’t let go of your ex. You’re the one ready to bolt when it gets tough and, yeah, yes, I ran scared with Alan and with all these other guys, but every time, _every single time_ I started to feel something, I thought of you.”

The defensiveness has left Jacob’s shoulders. His shoulders slump, his face distant and flushed with realization. He shakes his head and his eyes are shiny in the light. “I don’t understand what it is about me that you like so much.”

Ricky doesn’t answer. He touches Jacob’s fingers, wanting to hold his hand, wanting to make up with him.

“Emma left me and I still don’t know what went wrong. I barely saw it coming,” Jacob says. “What was it about me that changed? Did anything? What’s reliable if nothing changes and you still fall out of love with each other?”

“I don’t know.” Ricky grabs his hand, cold from the air, and runs his thumb along his knuckles. “I just know I’ve wanted to be with you for six years and I can’t imagine not wanting to tomorrow.”

When Jacob sighs this time, it’s slow and heavy. His eyelids lower, his head tilts back, and his mouth opens, ready. His cheeks and nose are red from the cold. Ricky presses a kiss to his nose first, then bends to warm Jacob’s wind-chapped lips. He realizes he’s been shivering from the cold as Jacob’s warm body moves closer, radiating heat across the lack of space between them. When they stop, Jacob stares at his eyes, as if searching for something, some indication of the change between them.

Ricky doesn’t break eye contact. He smirks, kisses the palm of his hand, and enjoys watching the movement in Jacob’s blue eyes as he scans Ricky’s face.

“We’re not messing around anymore,” Jacob whispers and smiles sheepishly.

“God, were we ever?” Ricky kisses him again and then starts to pull them back towards the bar. “Come back. I have to finish the set. Listen to us.”

“Hmm, well,” Jacob teases. “The first song was okay, I guess.”

“Cassie can sing it much better.”

“I doubt it. It’s yours.”

Ricky’s only now beginning to feel embarrassed about the scene he pulled. He considers pulling away from Jacob’s hand when they make it back inside, but Jacob’s just starting to wrap his fingers through his and Ricky finds he can’t let go.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so cheesy GOD just take it


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for descriptions of anxiety

Jacob stares out his window, watching the snow settle on the school campus. Since most people have gone home for the holidays, he can only make out a handful of footsteps, including his and Alan’s from their earlier trip to the store.

Alan’s downstairs trying to convince the RA to let him put up a Christmas tree in the lounge. He bought the fake tree without asking first, assuming, probably correctly, that she wouldn’t mind and only going to ask her after Jacob convinced him to make sure. It’s taking much longer than Jacob thought it would and he wonders what else Alan is trying to convince her to let them do.

The door swings open, finally, and Alan steps through, announcing, “Look who I found downstairs!”

Ricky’s shivering, his shoulders and hat wet from the already melting snow. He’s still wearing his leather jacket—of course—and he pulls a gloved hand out of the pocket to wave. “Hi.” In the other hand, he’s carrying a plastic store bag.

Jacob gets to his feet, going to help Ricky take off his wet scarf and hat. “You didn’t tell me you were coming today.”

“Alan called me to help with the party.”

“Party? What party?”

“It is a  _ small get-together _ ,” Alan corrects. He’s carrying their mail and he leaves Jacob’s portion on his bedside table.

Ricky grins and raises an eyebrow at Jacob, who laughs. “Right, of course.”

“ _ And _ it’s RA-approved, so no nagging, Jacob,” Alan continues. Jacob shoots him a glare. “It’s Christmas soon and since the three of us are sadly all alone, I figured we should get a bunch of other sad all aloners and celebrate our aloneness.”

“It’s okay to admit you’re lonely, Alan,” Ricky teases.

“Ah ah.” Alan lifts a hand to stop him from talking. “You, who is happily dating my best friend, are not allowed to comment on my singleness. Neither are you, Jacob, Mr. Bro-code-breaking-ex-boyfriend-dating punk.”

Jacob flips him off fondly and wraps his arms around Ricky’s waist, an act he recognizes as slightly possessive but can’t help indulge in.

“Fucking rude,” Alan says and takes the plastic bag from Ricky. “I’ll go hang the decorations downstairs while you two inevitably start sucking face. Bye.” He pats Jacob on the back, a gesture that lets him know he’s not actually mad, and leaves the room.

“Well, that was a weird thing you just did,” Ricky comments. He runs his thumbs along Jacob’s cheeks and back to his hair. “I didn’t take you for the back-off-he’s-mine type.”

“I’m not.”

“Mhm.” There’s a grin in his voice.

Jacob smiles, despite himself, and pulls away. “Our RA is going to get fired one of these days,” he says as he looks through the mail Alan brought up for him. His hands stop as they come to a letter with his name handwritten in a familiar script on the envelope. Ricky says something in response but Jacob doesn’t hear him. He stares down at the letter.

“Jacob? You okay, dude?” Ricky asks.

Jacob looks at him and nods, “Uh, yeah. Sorry.” He throws the letter in the trash can and turns his attention to Ricky. “‘Dude?’ Even though we’re dating now?”

Ricky grins, sticking his hands in his pockets. He looks at his feet and kicks the floor. “Dating,” he repeats like he’s hearing it for the first time.

It’s such an endearing thing to do that Jacob stalks closer and pulls him into a rough kiss. “Yep. Dating,” he whispers against Ricky’s mouth.

“Bro,” Ricky says, breathless. 

Jacob snickers uncontrollably.

“Take it easy on me.”

“I can’t believe you called me bro right after I kissed you.”

“Bro, my man, dude,” Ricky whispers seductively. “ _ Hombre _ ,  _ mi vida, amor _ .”

Jacob flushes and pulls away when Ricky switches to Spanish. “Hey, slow it down,  _ amor _ ,” he says. His voice is shaking. Ricky squeezes his hand. “We’ve…” Jacob swallows. “We’ve been dating a week.”

“You’re right.” But Ricky doesn’t look the least bit sorry.

“Anyway! Anyway, we should, uh, should help Alan with the decorations.”

“Look at you, all embarrassed,” Ricky teases.

“Whatever. I’m going to go help Alan. Are you coming?”

With a shrug, Ricky starts towards the door. He doesn’t let go of Jacob’s hand, instead pulling him along with him the entire way downstairs.

Later, after Ricky’s gone home and Alan’s tucked himself into bed, Jacob pulls the letter out of the trash can. He plays with the seal, puts it on his bedside table, picks it up again and stares at the words. Emma hasn’t sent him a letter in two months, not since Jacob stopped writing back.

_ What if she misses me? _ his mind suggests.  _ After all these months, what if she wants to get back together? _

Jacob sees green hair against his pillow, brown skin beneath his fingertips. He sees Ricky on stage, strumming a love song for him and remembers how comfortable it was laying in bed together, talking about books and high school. He remembers being unable to stop his anxiety from choking him as Ricky walked out the door. How he agonized over seeing him again, how he practiced what he’d say.

He tosses the letter back in the trash can and pulls the covers over his head, trying to starve off his curiosity over the thing.

***

Jacob begins seeing more of the things Ricky often tried to hide from him in high school, vulnerable things. Example: They’re laying together in Jacob’s bed, Jacob’s head against his chest as he flips through a photography book. Ricky’s looking through his physics notebook.

“Man, you’re really smart,” Ricky says.

“Hm?”

“I don’t get any of this.”

Jacob lifts his head to glance at the page Ricky’s staring at. “Well, you haven’t taken the class.”

There’s something tense in Ricky’s expression. “I doubt I’d get it even if I took the class. I kinda suck at school.”

Jacob doesn’t know what to say.

“You probably remember. You helped me out back in the day.” After dropping the notebook on the floor, Ricky slides closer and breathes against Jacob’s neck. “I actually thought about going to college. My mom wanted me to go, like a lot. ‘S why I tried so hard to pass my classes even when I knew how dumb I am.”

“You’re  _ not _ dumb,” Jacob says hotly.

Ricky snorts. “Right. I know. Like my therapist says, ‘We’re all good at different things. Doing badly in school doesn’t make you worth less.’ I get it. Doesn’t mean I’m smart. Anyway, obviously I didn’t end up going to college. I don’t need to pay thousands of dollars a year to study music anyway.”

“Why didn’t you go? Just the money?”

“There’s nothing  _ just _ about the money,” Ricky laughs. “But no. I talked to the school counselor about it. He said he didn’t think I’d do well in college and I figured he was right, so…”

Jacob sits up, turning his body so he’s staring at Ricky. He squeezes his hands into fists. “Fuck him.”

“Woah there. It’s okay.” Ricky sits up too, placing his hands on Jacob’s arms.

“It’s  _ not _ fucking okay! It’s his job to support you, not fucking…” Jacob takes a deep breath. “I don’t know how you’d do in college, but he should’ve at least let you  _ try _ . You aren’t dumb. You really aren’t, Ricky.”

When Ricky doesn’t say anything, Jacob continues, his voice shaking. “I… I could never write songs like you do. I couldn’t make music like that. Write like that. That… That’s talent. That’s  _ smart _ . And that… that class? That physics class? It nearly killed me. I didn’t understand seventy-five percent of the stuff I wrote in that notebook. That doesn’t make either one of us dumb.”

Ricky presses his lips together and swallows. His eyes are watering. These are Ricky’s insecurities, Jacob realizes suddenly. The same ones he watched Ricky battle with back in high school. Back then, he’d done little but pick at them.

“I’m sorry,” Jacob whispers.

“Fuck, for what?” Ricky pulls him closer by his shirt and kisses his mouth. Jacob closes his eyes, melts into the kiss and Ricky pushes him back against the bed. Jacob pushes the photography book to the floor.

As they undress, Ricky pressing soft kisses against Jacob’s chest, his hands moving down to his hips, Jacob sees the pained crease between Ricky’s eyebrows, the wetness at the corners of his eyes. Something hot expands in Jacob’s chest and travels down to the pit of his stomach as Ricky pulls off both his and Jacob’s jeans, then settles between Jacob’s legs.

They kiss again, slow. Jacob pushes his hips up and shivers. Ricky releases a quiet moan. His hands move along Jacob’s sides, his chest. Ricky’s body is hot, gently intense as they move together, building the pleasure between them. Jacob finds he can’t control the sounds he’s making and bites Ricky’s shoulder.

Ricky hisses and presses his hips into Jacob a little more roughly, losing himself. He’s cursing under his breath, a tear falling from his eyelash and landing coldly against Jacob’s neck. Jacob’s back arches as their thrusts become messier, harder.

“God, you’re blinding,” Ricky whispers.

Jacob trembles and comes with a muffled moan.

Ricky watches, still moving against him. Jacob forces his eyes open, sensing Ricky’s climax and sees the pained pleasure in Ricky’s eyes. He kisses him, slips inside his mouth, and wraps his arms around his neck. With a stuttered breath against his mouth, Ricky comes too.

They breathe in time with each other for a long moment.

“Damn, now I have to shower again,” Jacob jokes.

Ricky laughs. “Me too,” he says, raising an eyebrow.

***

Jacob expects to spend a lot of time with Ricky in the days leading up to Christmas, but he learns quickly that Ricky’s other job keeps him busy. He works at a music store in addition to playing in the band because he can’t “afford shit on the paycheck I make from the bar alone.”

So, Jacob spends a lot of time without Ricky, with Alan asking overly personal questions about their relationship. Aside from that, he helps Alan set up the party, putting up the remaining decorations and putting presents underneath the tree. Their RA helps out a little too, seeming pleased with the way the lounge is beginning to look.

The day before the party, Ricky shows up with his own small pile of presents and a lopsided grin. He, Jacob, and Alan spend the day finishing up for the party and then watching movies on Jacob’s laptop.

“Don’t forget I’m in the room, okay?” Alan warns as they settle into bed for the night.

Ricky laughs from where he’s laying on Jacob’s bed. “We’ll see,” Jacob says and Alan makes a face.

“No kissing either!” He turns his back on them, twisting himself in his blanket.

Jacob slips into bed beside Ricky and they kiss quietly. Ricky snickers, wrapping his arm around Jacob. His body relaxes and they fade into sleep.

Jacob’s phone wakes them the next morning. He tries to ignore it, but Alan throws a pillow at him and Ricky groans into his pillow. He forces himself to sit up and answer the call. It’s his dad again.

“Hello?” he says sleepily.

“Jake!” He sounds unusually enthusiastic. Jacob narrows his eyes. “Are you at your dorm right now?”

“Uh, yeah.”

“Are you doing anything today?”

“Alan’s throwing a party, but—”

“A small get-together,” Alan grumbles.

“That’s not until later.”

“Great! Good! Okay.”

“What’s going on?”

“Nothing, nothing. I’ll talk to you later.” He hangs up.

Jacob stares at his phone. Ricky squints at him, a hint of a question in his tired eyes. With a shrug, Jacob goes back to sleep.

The next time, they’re woken by knocking. Jacob throws Alan’s pillow back at him and it hits him in the face.

Alan curses and punches the pillow, getting up to open the door. Jacob doesn’t bother looking. Instead, he snuggles closer to Ricky’s warm body.

“Yes?” Alan says.

“Hi! You must be Alan,” a man says.

Jacob’s eyes pop open.

“Um, yeah? Who are you guys?”

“Hello. I’m Jacob’s mother. It’s nice to meet you.”

Jacob shoots up in bed. The action calls attention to him and both his parents rush forward to greet him. “Jake!” his dad says and Jacob stands to hug him blankly, feeling his stomach turn unpleasantly.

He catches Alan’s wide-eyed stare from behind his dad.

Jacob turns to greet his mother, but she doesn’t respond. She’s staring at the boy in Jacob’s bed.

Ricky’s only beginning to wake up. He rubs his eyes, his hand reaching for Jacob and finding an empty bed.

The world rattles painfully. Jacob tries to control his breathing.

“Jacob?” Ricky says and looks up. His face goes blank, as shocked as his mother’s.

“Well,” she says. “I suppose it’s nice to see you again, Ricky.” She’s as cold as always towards him. “Though, I have to say, I didn’t think I’d find you in my son’s bed.”

Jacob practically runs into the bathroom. He doesn’t even give himself enough time to make an excuse. He can’t let his parents see him having an anxiety attack. After a moment, Ricky knocks on the door and Jacob realizes he forgot to lock it.

“You okay?” Ricky asks as he enters but Jacob can’t speak. He can’t catch his breath. “Woah,” Ricky says and squeezes his arms. “It’s okay. It’s okay. Just breathe.”

He tries. He tries to breathe. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” he says, leaning closer. Ricky hugs him tightly, letting him shake and curse and cry against his chest. He loses his head in the middle of it, feeling only Ricky’s arms around him, hearing, “It’s okay. Breathe. In… Out… Yeah, you’re okay, babe. You’re going to be fine.”

Before it turns into a full blown attack, Jacob starts to calm down. His limbs hurt from the tension in his body. He counts as he breathes:  _ 1, 2, 3, 4. Pause. 1, 2, 3, 4. _ Over and over until he can breathe a bit more normally. “What did you tell them?” he asks hoarsely.

“Nothing. I booked it.”

Jacob laughs despite himself.

“You okay?” Ricky asks nervously, searching his face.

Sighing, he nods. “Managed to stop it before it got too bad. I’m fine.”

For a second, Ricky just hold him there. Jacob realizes the rapid heartbeat he’s hearing is Ricky’s, not his, and he lets its slowing calm him down a little bit more.

“They said something about someone waiting for you downstairs, though.”

“What?” Jacob pulls away and wipes at his stinging eyes. “Who…?”

Ricky’s quiet for a long time as Jacob turns on the sink and rubs water onto his face. A sigh escapes his mouth. “Emma.”

Jacob freezes.

“And, and some other people too, but all I heard was Emma. She’s… your ex, right? Your parents, they know her? They like her?” The insecurity is bleeding into his voice and his body is doing that thing where he shrinks himself, his shoulders slumping, his back hunched.

“My parents want me to end up with a girl. And Emma’s… Emma’s situation is a little weird, but I mean, yeah, they like her, but it’s not…” Jacob sighs, frustrated. “What I’m trying to say is you don’t have to worry about what my parents think or want.”

Ricky mutters a reply and looks at the bathroom floor. “What about, what about…” Before he can finish, someone’s knocking on the door. Jacob’s body seizes up as it opens and someone sticks their head inside.

It’s Alan. They both relax. “I hope you two aren’t making out in here because the parents are waiting downstairs for Jacob,” Alan says. “With Emma.” He shoots Jacob a look. “And a bunch of other names, but holy shit, Emma.”

“Stop it. It’s—It’s not that big of a deal. Emma and I are friends… Yeah, I mean… Yeah.”

“Don’t panic,” Alan says and at first Jacob thinks he’s saying it to him, but he realizes Alan’s looking at Ricky.

“I can’t stay here,” Ricky says suddenly. “They don’t like me, they never have. God, your mother is terrifying. I have to go—”

“No,” Jacob says. “No, they’re just my parents. You know them. And I don’t want to handle them alone.” He grabs Ricky’s hand. “Please.”

“Arghh,” he says. “Okay. Fuck.” Then, he kisses Jacob roughly. Jacob hardly has time to respond before he’s sliding past both him and Alan and muttering, “Okay. Okay, first pants. Gotta find my pants.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That was the Scene that made me change the rating to M lol


	6. Chapter 6

It’s been a long time since Jacob saw Emma. He notices her first, sitting on one of the couches, her long blonde hair tied into a braid. She’s wearing a green dress.

Halfway into the lounge, someone runs smack into him, someone invisible. Jacob’s breath is knocked out of him and he mutters, “Millard.”

“Nice to see you again, Jacob,” he whispers cheerfully. “I wasn’t supposed to come, on account of scaring your friends, but let’s not say anything, okay?”

Emma rises when she notices him. He composes himself and feels Alan and Ricky come up behind him. He notices Enoch brooding in the corner and Bronwyn whispering nervously to him.

“Hi,” Emma says, smiling. “The others wanted to come, of course, but we couldn’t fit everyone in the car and you know how it is with some of their peculiarities… Miss Peregrine sends her regards.”

“She’s British,” Alan says in wonder.

“Uh,” Jacob starts. “Right. Um, yeah. I’ll write her.”

Bronwyn and Enoch approach and Jacob opens his arms for the crushing hug he knows is coming. Bronwyn nearly sweeps him off his feet, but she remembers herself the last minute and squeezes only barely enough for it to hurt. When they pull away, she’s dabbing at her eyes with a handkerchief. “Olive and Claire wanted me to say hi and give you a hug for them,” she says. “Claire insisted she couldn’t possibly eat in front of your friends and Olive, you know, you let her go and off she goes, so they both stayed behind. We’ve all missed you, Jacob. You hardly write anymore.”

“Speak for yourself,” Enoch mutters.

“Why did  _ you _ come then?” Jacob responds.

“Thought it’d be good entertainment, seeing how you’ll try to avoid Emma when she’s right in front of you.”

“Enoch, please,” Emma snaps. She nods at Jacob. “You haven’t introduced us to your friends.”

Jacob steps aside so he’s standing beside Ricky and Alan. “The blond one’s my roommate and—”

“ _ Best _ friend,” Alan interrupts.

“His name’s Alan.”

Alan grins at them and shakes each of their hands, saying “cheerio” and “great to meet you” in a bad, probably offensive, British accent. Enoch looks ready to bite his head off.

Ricky glances at Jacob nervously. They should’ve talked about how to introduce him. Jacob takes his hand and pointedly does not look at anyone but Ricky. “This is… This is Ricky. He’s—He’s my boyfriend.”

Enoch barks out a laugh, glancing at Emma for her reaction. Millard knocks something over behind them, making Emma narrow her eyes.

“What’s so funny?” Jacob mutters.

“Well, Emma—”

“Enoch,” Emma says dangerously. She extends her hand to shake Ricky’s. “A pleasure to meet you.”

Ricky shakes her hand and nods. After, he sticks his hand in his jacket pocket. “Yeah, same,” he says after a delayed second.

Enoch shakes with suppressed laughter. “My god, this is awkward. I’m glad I came.” Bronwyn elbows him and he hisses, “ow!”

“How does Jacob know you guys?” Ricky asks. His eyes widen. “Oh. Wales. He knows you from Wales, doesn’t he?”

“Oh… You know about that?” Emma asks.

“Yeah? Well, kinda.”

Jacob senses where the conversation is going from the look of surprise on Emma’s face and cuts in before Emma, or Enoch or Bronwyn for that matter, can say something that’ll make Ricky aware of just how much he  _ hasn’t _ told him. “Um! So, you all came to visit me. With my parents.”

“Oh, yes, your parents said they were going to surprise you and asked if any of us wanted to come along,” Bronwyn says. “Of course we all did. Millard nearly snuck into the car.”

“Oh, yeah?” Jacob’s sure the snickering he hears isn’t coming from any one of them.

Alan makes a face, hearing it too, and starts circling the room. By the look on Emma’s face, it’s clear she’s caught on too.

“Alan, shouldn’t we start setting up for the party?” Jacob says.

Predictably, Alan whips around and shouts, “Small get-together, Jakey! Small get-together!”

“Oh, is it alright that we’re here?” Emma’s not usually one to feel awkward, but she presses her arm against her side in a way that certainly comes off like she’s uncomfortable.

“Well, you came all the way over here. Might as well,” Jacob says.

Jacob’s parents enter the room, a present in his dad’s hands. He smiles, pointedly not looking at Ricky and drops the flat box in Jacob’s hands. It feels like a book. Jacob’s mother, very much unlike his dad, stares at Ricky as she approaches, looking him up and down.

It’s different from when they were teenagers. Jacob feels a rush of annoyance and protectiveness at his parents’ attitudes. It makes him slip an arm around Ricky’s waist. “Thanks,” he says and gestures at the present.

“Uhhh, I need to stop by the store soooo,” Alan says. He pats both Ricky and Jacob on the back as he leaves the room, muttering, “Good luck. I’m out.”

“What are you doing now, Ricky?” Jacob’s mom says. “I was sorry to hear about your mother. That must’ve been hard.”

“It was, yeah,” Ricky says, his voice almost relaxed as he leans closer to Jacob. “Right now, I’m just…”

Jacob cuts in, “He’s in a band. They’re really good. They’re called  _ Wings and Oceans _ , inspired by Icarus. You know, the guy who flew too close to the sun.”

“A band,” his mother says, hearing nothing else.

The RA drags herself into the room, yawning. She’s carrying a present and she places it beneath the Christmas tree. “Ricky, can you help me with the rest?”

Almost too eagerly, Ricky disentangles himself from Jacob and goes to help her. Jacob dislikes the coldness he’s left behind.

Once he’s out of the room, his mother turns quickly on Jacob. “What are you  _ thinking _ ?”

“Ugh,” Jacob says, wishing Emma, Bronwyn, and  _ especially _ Enoch didn’t have to see this. “Mom, please—”

“That boy has  _ always _ been a troublemaker. Don’t think I don’t remember I caught you two smoking right after you met him. Is this why you didn’t want to come home? He’s convinced you to ignore your family?”

“No,  _ Mother _ . I keep telling you,  _ I’m _ the one who asked him for a smoke.”

“Oh my god, you’re probably smoking now, aren’t you? Let me smell your breath.”

“Now, now,” his dad says. “I think what your mother is trying to say is that… It’s hard to see where your relationship with him will go. And Emma’s such a sweet girl and she came all the way over here to see you. Didn’t you, Emma?”

“Well,” Emma starts. “Jacob and I are still friends, after all. Bronwyn came to see him as well.”

“Girl is the key word,” Jacob snaps.

“Oh, so you don’t like girls anymore?” his mom snaps back.

“That’s not what I’m saying! I’m saying I know you don’t want me to date guys.  _ Why _ don’t you like Ricky? Because he smokes? Because his hair’s green? The piercings? None of that matters, Mom. Is it because he doesn’t have a lot of money?”

“How dare you accuse me of—”

Jacob rolls his eyes.

“Okay!” His dad places a calming hand on his mom’s arm. “Okay. What’s important is that you like him, Jake. And you trust him.”

His anger deflates and Jacob sighs. “I do.”

“Okay. Good then. Good.” His dad glances around the room and then pulls his mom towards the door. “We’re going to buy some breakfast. I think your mom needs some time to process…”

“Well, that was something,” Millard says once they’ve left the room.

Emma groans and says, “Millard, you were supposed to stay behind.”

“I’m sorry,” Jacob says to her, “that they tried to use you like that.”

She gives him a shrug and a smile.

“She was terrified for a second there,” Enoch snickers. “Her face. You did not know what to say.”

She huffs. “If anything, I was surprised by their animosity towards him. They seem to strongly dislike him.”

They say nothing for a moment. Emma clears her throat. “Actually, I’d like to talk to you. I’m not sure if you got my letter…”

He presses a hand against his eyebrow as he says, “Letter?” It twitches with his lie.

Emma doesn’t seem to believe it either. “Yes. Can you all give us a moment?”

Enoch makes a face, Bronwyn nods, and they trudge away.

“You too, Millard.”

“Excuse  _ me _ ,” he says.

After a second, Emma goes to sit on an empty couch. Jacob joins her, slipping the present his dad brought him onto the table in front of them. She presses her hands together and takes a deep breath, readying herself to say something big, Jacob can tell. “Part of me… Part of me does miss you, Jacob. I don’t think I could ever not love you. Do you understand?”

He does but he doesn’t say so.

“I wondered for a long time if ending things with you was the right thing to do. We’ve been through so many things together, things no one else will ever be able to touch… But.”

Jacob finds he’s not surprised there’s a catch.

“But there are new things… with new people, that you could never touch either. I think that’s just a part of meeting new people and letting go of the old ones.”

Despite himself, Jacob flinches. “You met someone else?”

“Oh, well, I did a while ago, but it ended. It was only for a short time and it was wonderful during that time, but this is not about  _ him _ . It’s about… I’m going to England. Present day England, I mean. To study.”

Jacob blinks. She takes his hand and squeezes. “I was very angry with you when you decided to study so far away. I was upset I wouldn’t be able to talk to you face-to-face and that you  _ chose _ it this way. I understood your tendency to run, but I was hurt you wanted to run from  _ me _ .”

This isn’t something they’ve ever talked about. Jacob squeezes her hand back and it’s less painful than he expects.

“I’m sorry about that,” Emma continues. “Suddenly you reminded me of Abe and I admit it was a little bit scary. He never came back, after all. I think that’s around the time I stopped wanting to be with you.”

“Blunt as ever,” Jacob jokes, voice shaking.

She laughs. “Sorry. I’m just trying to say I understand the tendency now. Before this, I could only go so far. Now—now I can do whatever I want. I can see things I never thought I would see, meet people I never would’ve met. And I want us to let go of our feelings for each other enough so that I can do these things.” She shakes her head and laughs again. “Though, I can see you’ve gone ahead and done that already.”

“What do you mean?”

“Ricky.” She flashes a teasing smile. “He’s quite handsome, though I’m not much a fan of the hair.”

“It’s a bit gaudy,” Millard says. Emma’s eyes flash with anger. “Oops, sorry.”

“It is not gaudy,” Jacob protests.

“I’m glad you’ve told him about what happened in Wales,” Emma says. “It’s such a big secret not to tell.”

“Oh, I—” His eyes wander to the doorway. Ricky’s leaning against it, watching their hands—which are  _ still _ clasped together. He pulls away.

Ricky’s eyes flash and he turns as if to leave.

Jacob jumps to his feet, calling his name. When he reaches him, he pulls on his arm until Ricky looks at him. “Hey, is everything okay?”

“Yeah. Why wouldn’t it be?” Ricky smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Alan texted me he forgot his wallet so I’m just gonna go drop it off for him.”

“Okay.” To reassure him, Jacob leans up and kisses his mouth. Ricky sighs against his lips. “Come back as soon as you can.”

“Demanding,” Ricky teases and pinches his side lightly. “See you.”

He does not come back as soon as he can. In fact, Alan comes back before him, carrying bags of snacks and alcohol. Then, his parents come back. Around noon, people start showing up for the party, first Cassie and the other band members. Jacob greets her and asks if she’s seen Ricky.

“Nope. Thought he’d be here,” she says. “Have you tried texting him?”

“Yeah…” Jacob says, staring at his phone. “Yeah, a couple of times.”

Cassie grips his shoulder. “Don’t worry, sweetie. That boy is so in love with you he’d go to a Justin Bieber concert with you if you asked. He’ll be here.” Her eyes slide over to Emma, who’s talking to Bronwyn and Enoch (and probably Millard, if he’s not off causing trouble) in the corner, a can of soda in hand. “Who is  _ she _ ?”

“Oh, that’s Emma. She’s my… Friend.”

Cassie doesn’t miss the hesitation in his voice. She raises both eyebrows and grins when Emma catches her eyes. “Excuse me.”

He catches a girl’s eyes from across the room, the girl from the food truck, as Cassie slips away. He goes to greet her and it’s clear she doesn’t recognize him. “Um, I’m Jacob,” he says. “You sold me and Ricky Mexican food on our first date. Carmella, right?”

“Oh, hi! I’m actually Ricky’s cousin.” She laughs. “Sorry for not introducing myself last time.”

“Wait, his cousin? Didn’t you call him handsome?”

Carmella’s face twists and she looks confused. After a moment, she says, “Oh, no. Ew, haha. No, I was calling  _ you _ handsome, but I was just teasing him. I wanted to know if you were his boyfriend or something.” She shakes her head. “He told you I called  _ him _ handsome? That’s funny.”

“I didn’t know he had family… here.”

A sad smile crosses her face. “Yeah, he’s private about it. We’re not all that close. I mean, he didn’t even know we existed until after his mom died. My mom and his mom didn’t exactly leave off on good terms.” She curses and slaps a hand over her mouth. “Maybe I shouldn’t have told you. It’s not my story tell.”

“I get it,” Jacob replies. “I’ll ask him about it. If he decides to come back.”

Carmella glances to the side awkwardly, no doubt sensing Jacob’s mood. “Uh, okay… Hey, Alan!” Part of Jacob is embarrassed to have made her uncomfortable enough she had to leave, but another part of him is getting increasingly upset at Ricky’s absence. And that he didn’t tell him Carmella’s his cousin.

Jacob grabs the present he bought for Ricky from underneath the tree, a small thing wrapped in red and gold wrapping paper. Then, he takes the elevator back up to his room. He drags himself to his bed without bothering to close the door behind him. He lays down, balancing Ricky’s present on his stomach and closing his eyes.

He remembers what it was like losing Emma, how he loved her, how it wasn’t enough. Maybe this won’t be enough either. Maybe it’s too much. Maybe they both have commitment issues and Ricky’s are only starting to show up now, when Jacob’s have disappeared. Irony at its best.

“Jerk,” he mutters, playing with the name tag on Ricky’s present.

“I hope you’re not talking about me.”

The voice makes Jacob jump and he sits up. “Ricky.”

“Sorry.” Ricky walks into the room, carrying an acoustic guitar. “Carmella said you were mad.”

“You said you were going to come right back.”

He bites his lip, closing the door behind him, and sets his guitar down next to Jacob’s bed. “I know. I… I kinda freaked out when I saw you holding Emma’s hand.”

They’re quiet for a second. Jacob moves over so Ricky can join him on the bed. When Jacob says nothing, Ricky sighs and kisses his jaw. “Forgive me,  _ mi vida _ .  _ Lo siento _ . I’m here now. I came back.”

“What took you so long?”

“I freaked out and—and I thought maybe I’d have to like, fight for your heart or some shit so I went to my apartment to finish this song…” Ricky flushes. “That I wrote for you.”

Even if Jacob wanted to stay mad, he wouldn’t be able to. “Of course you did.” He laughs at the look on Ricky’s face and kisses him. “Let me hear it then.”

“It’s rough. And like, really embarrassing.”

“Even better.”

Ricky sits up and turns his back on Jacob, picking up his guitar. “I’m just gonna play it like this. You stay there.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, okay? I don’t wanna look at you while I play.”

Pleased by his response, Jacob lays back and closes his eyes. “Okay.”

A consistent melody starts as Ricky strums the guitar. He’s not as good at it as he is at playing bass, but he’s not bad either. When he starts singing, it’s a slow, peaceful thing. Jacob’s chest lightens and expands and he buries his face in the back of Ricky’s shirt.

Ricky stutters but doesn’t stop singing. The song is warm and sweet, but there’s nervousness in his voice that gives it an edge of pain. Jacob breathes and it hurts a little bit too.

When the song fades away and Ricky puts the guitar down, Jacob sits up to kiss the back of his neck. “You love me,” he whispers.

“Uhh…”

“It’s okay.” He kisses his shoulder. “Tell me.”

“You know that I do.” Ricky whips around to look at him. “Is that too much too fast? Pretend I didn’t say it.”

“No.” Jacob presses his lips against his. “I think I do too.”

Ricky grins. “What was that? You think you what?"

“I do too.”

“Do what?”

Jacob rolls his eyes, twisting Ricky around so they’re not looking at each other’s faces. He whispers in his ear, “I think I… I love…” He glances to the side, feeling his face turn red. “You.”

“Damn, this song worked out really great,” Ricky jokes and before Jacob can respond he tackles him to the bed and kisses him messily. Jacob runs a hand along his stomach. “Fuck, let me lock the door.” Ricky starts to get up.

“Wait, wait.” Jacob pulls him back down. “I want to talk to you about something.”

Ricky settles next to him.

“First, open your present.” Jacob drops the present in Ricky’s lap. Ricky lifts an eyebrow and tears at the wrapping paper. He laughs when he sees it’s a copy of  _ Catcher in the Rye _ , filled with notes from Jacob, including one that says  _ ok he’s a little likeable in this part _ .

He kisses Jacob as thank you. “Your present’s downstairs. Actually, it’s a combined present from both me and Alan. It’s—”

“A camera?” Jacob nods at Ricky’s surprised expression. “I know. He’s bad at hiding stuff.”

“There goes the surprise, man. Shit.”

“Thank you. I’ve wanted a nice camera forever.”

Ricky grins and bites his lip. “I know.” They kiss again, for a long time.

“Okay, okay. But we should really talk about stuff.”

“Fiiine. What do you want to talk about then?”

“About your family. Carmella.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah, but I need to tell you something else too.” With a shuddering breath, he says, “About what happened while I was missing.”

Ricky’s face melts into seriousness. He nods, taking Jacob’s hand.  “Tell me.”

  
He tells him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand it's the end.
> 
> Idk if I'm satisfied with it lol. It was fun writing the peculiar kids for once. I think they'll be more involved in my next fic.
> 
> Tell me what you thought!


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